


The Auror's Boys

by lindajenner



Series: The Aftermath of Hogwarts... and What Happpens next. [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 86,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21600910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindajenner/pseuds/lindajenner
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, the charges against Harry don't just go away because he killed Voldemort.He's found guilty and is sent through the Veil.He comes out through the exit to platform 9 3/4... In a universe where James, Lily and Harry Potter and Sirius Black were killed the night Voldy attacked Godric's Hollow and was killed then by Dumbledore.He has G10 + £25, his mokeskin pouch and a rucksack holding a few changes of clothing. Nothing else.And he's 10 again.What's he going to do?
Series: The Aftermath of Hogwarts... and What Happpens next. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555228
Comments: 205
Kudos: 576





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This should be read with 'The Trial of Harry Potter' as a prologue.

_“Thank you, Mr Potter.” He took the parchment the clerk was patiently holding. “The Wizengamot will confer and inform you of our decision.”_

_Fifteen minutes later Harry was holding his breath and Hermione’s hand. Would the five members of the Wizengamot agree to his requests? Would he get what wanted?_

_“The sitting members of the Wizengamot have reached a consensus…”_

Lucius Malfoy looked at Harry from his seat in the Wizengamot members’ benches. For the first time, Harry saw a Malfoy that was not pleased with his own actions.

“We regret that we are unable to meet all of your requests, Mr Potter.” He sighed. “As far as your requests in relation to Life in Exile? Point One. Your muggle identity and altering it are a minor issue. Nominating only one person to be aware of your muggle identity, we believe not to be a wise idea, however there are ways to lock that information away in an additional person’s mind that is only released upon your chosen information holder’s death. Point Two. Altering your appearance. Miss Granger’s suggestions are feasible, both of them. We do understand your reasoning and to a point, we agree with it. We don’t like it, but we do understand it. Point Three. We have conferred with St. Mungo's and the only option available to you is sterilisation, be it temporary, linked to your core binding, or permanent. There are no other alternatives, I’m afraid. Point Four. Your finances. That’s a little more complex. Gringotts have informed us that the Potter Family Charter states that no more than ten percent of the gross estate value may be transferred to the muggle world, however that is still a respectable amount. But the Black Family Charter stipulates that no monies from any of the Black Estates may be transferred into muggle control. Your personal possessions? Professor Flitwick believes that he can cast a charm that will enable you to see and value a trunk, but have no curiosity or desire to open it, until or if the bindings are lifted. Point Five. You are an adult of legal age and as such have the right to disperse your assets where you choose. If you write a Will, of course we will see that your estate is apportioned as per your wishes.” He held out a fresh sheet of parchment. “Here are the agreed upon requests for the Exile option.”

Harry waited while the clerk fetched the parchment and handed it to Hermione.

“As for the Veil option? A wand. Mr Potter, a conviction under Mordred’s Law prohibits this Ministry from providing you a wand, at least until your sentence is complete.” Malfoy paused. “To clarify… If you were to select the Exile option and at some point, in the future, you were called upon to assist with a situation that required the bindings one your core being lifted, the lifting of those bindings would constitute the completion of your sentence. As does a return through the Veil.”

“Thank you for adding that, Mr Malfoy. That hadn’t been covered.” Kingsley commented.

“Understandable and I apologise for not mentioning it earlier. But we digress. A wand. We have to deny this request, not because we wish to, but because it is the law. Point Two. The mokeskin pouch. Yes, certainly we shall return it to you. Point Three. Unfortunately, the only option that allows you to retain any finances is the Exile option. This is a grey area, if you choose the veil, you will no longer be a citizen of our world and the only legal equivalent is death, and as such we suggest that you write a Will to come into effect upon your entrance into the veil. However, we do understand your hypothesis and while neither the Wizengamot, nor it's members, may provide you with monies, there is no such restriction on your advisors. If Miss Granger, Auror Shacklebolt or Unspeakable Croaker were to gift you with items or monies, we do not have the right to deny your acceptance of said gifts, but it can only be what they carry on their person at any given time.”

“Understood.” Kingsley spoke and Harry and Hermione both nodded.

“Point Four. Battle robes. This court must provide you with clothing, but there’s no way we can approve dragonhide, it’s extremely expensive. Not to mention that Mordred’s Law specifically stipulates the items we can and must provide. Three pair of cotton canvas trousers, three cotton button-down shirts, three cotton undershirts, six pairs underpants, six pairs socks, one pair cow-leather shoes or boots, one wool knitted jumper/pullover and one change of sleepwear.”

“Damn.” Harry whispered.

“Point five. The trunk. While Miss Granger holds your complete trust, Mordred’s Law again inhibits us, in what can be provided to you. A trunk and its contents are not on that list, I’m afraid. The best we can do is to provide a muggle bag of Miss Granger’s choosing. In addition, we will allow her to select five items to place within that bag, however, all items must be muggle in nature with no wizarding magic applied to them.”

“Double damn.” Harry muttered.

“So, it comes down to which sentence you would prefer. Regardles, we are remanding you to the DMLE holding cells for the night and your restriction band has been altered to accommodate that. While the veil is here in the Ministry, we have granted Miss Granger the opportunity to provide items on your behalf, to expect her to be able to produce those items before close of business today is unreasonable. Your sentence, whichever you choose, will come into effect at midday tomorrow.” Malfoy straightened his shoulders. “You will have quill, ink and parchment supplied to you, for the purpose of writing a Will, a goblin from Gringotts will be brought to you to certify your Will. Visitors are permitted but must be vetted by the DMLE prior to your attendance. Physical contact with those visitors will not be permitted. I’m sorry, I’m told that’s standard for the holding cells.”

Lady Longbottom turned to Hermione. “Miss Granger? As stated, you will be permitted to purchase items on behalf of Mr Potter. None of those items are to hold, contain or have wizarding magic applied to them. You will be expected to display those items and they will be randomly tested to ensure that the rules that the DMLE have placed, for the protection of prisoners, have been followed. You will be provided a list,” she offered up a sheet of parchment, “of the items that must be provided and a description of said items. The five items that we are permitting you to gift to Mr Potter, must also follow the DMLE’s rules.”

“Mr Potter? Have you reached a decision, or would you like a few minutes to discuss the matter with your advisors?” Malfoy asked.

“I’d like five minutes to discuss it, sir.” Harry answered.

“Granted. Auror Shacklebolt, may place a silencing ward around you and your advisors.” Malfoy nodded.

“Thank you, sir.” Harry nodded back.

Kingsley tossed up a privacy ward and Hermione instantly began to rant. Until Kingsley silenced her.

“Thanks, Kingsley. Mione, shut up and listen. Logically, we knew I wasn’t going to just walk away, too much has happened. This isn’t as good as you might have wanted but it’s better than I expected. Hell, I expected ‘go straight to Azkaban, do not pass GO, do not collect ʛ200’. This is better.”

“Better? How the hell do you figure that?” Kingsley demanded.

“Okay, Life in Exile might be hell on earth to you or other magicals, Kingsley, but not to me. Magic is cool, but I’ve had to live without every summer, I could keep going if I needed to. It might be different if I were older and been living in the magical world for longer, able to do magic anytime I wanted, but that hasn’t been the case. Since August, Hermione, Ron and I have been on the run, we used magic rarely, we weren’t sure if the Ministry under Voldy could track our magical signatures.”

“Only if their signature is on record. The closest is if someone splinches, we can use their signature to collect whatever parts they misplaced.” Croaker answered.

“Good to know.” Harry snorted.

“So, you’re not concerned about living in the muggle world permanently?” Kingsley asked.

“No, not really. But… That’s not the option I’m choosing.” Harry words made the three gasp, in shock.

“What?” Hermione overrode Kingsley’s silencing hex.

“Hermione, you read the same book, about the veil, that I did.” Harry chided.

“What am I missing, then?” She asked.

“Did you see the piece of parchment that was glued into the book’s rear cover?”

“Yes, it was just scribble, Harry, I think it was a child’s attempt at writing Cyrillic.” Hermione dismissed.

“ _ **I**_ think it was parselscript. Anyway, if I read it right, it said that the veil isn’t the veil of death, like the Ministry think, but rather that it’s the veil of judgement. If I step into the veil, Lady Magic will judge me. If she finds my actions and motives immoral or unjust, I’ll be sent somewhere to pay for it, purgatory, if you like. If however, she finds me deserving of it, I’ll go somewhere I can earn the right to live in peace.” Harry didn’t say that if Lady Magic found him righteous in his actions, he would merely be transported to a different location and his life recreated afresh. His body and core wiped clean of any taints, his magic fresh and new. A gift from Lady Magic, herself.

“Oh…” Hermione gasped.

“The wizarding world hasn’t been good to me, Mione, I can easily live without it. Magic? Not so easily. The only good things this world has given me, have been my friends. Life in Exile means losing those friends. But with the veil? At least with the veil, I will still remember you. I’ll have my album, I’ll be able to see you, or pictures of you. Exile? With the memory charms, it’ll be like you never existed to me. Magic I could manage without, but loosing my memories of you and the others? No. I can’t, I _**won’t**_ accept that.”

“So, you’re choosing the veil?” Hermione whispered.

“I am.” He nodded.”

“Oh, Harry.” She whispered and a tear ran down her cheek.

“You need to be strong, Mione. Go get your parents back. Live, be happy. For me? Please?” Harry let his own tears fall. “Even if the Wizengamot cleared me, I wouldn’t be staying in Britain’s wizarding world, I can’t, not after the way they’ve treated me for the last seven years. I can’t.”

“What if another Dark Lord comes?” Hermione pleaded.

“I risked my life for them every year, Hermione, and not once did anyone other than you, or the Weasley’s, ever say thanks, not one person. I died for them and do your really think any of them are going to say thanks, maybe, but if another Dark Lord came, they’d expect me to die for them again. No, once was enough. It’s time I lived for me, not the wizarding world.” Harry begged his friend to understand.

“I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. Alright. What can I do to help?”

“Help me write a Will?”

“You got it.”

“Thanks. Kingsley, I’m ready.” Harry nodded towards Malfoy and the other members of the Wizengamot.

Kingsley didn’t say anything, he just flicked his wand and let his privacy wards fall.

“I’ve made my choice, Mr Malfoy.” Harry said, once he had the wizard’s attention.

“And which sentence have you decided upon, Mr Potter?” The blonde wizard asked.

“I choose the veil.”


	2. Chapter 2

_"I’ve made my choice, Mr Malfoy.” Harry said, once he had the wizard’s attention._

_“And which sentence have you decided upon, Mr Potter?” The blonde wizard asked._

_“I choose the veil.”_

“Miss Granger? Are you satisfied with the items that you have purchased on Mr Potter’s behalf?” Lucius Malfoy asked.

“I am, sir.” Hermione nodded.

“Very well. Please present each item to the court and provide the details for it.” Malfoy directed.

“First item. A heavy-duty canvas rucksack, no wizarding magic applied to it.” She held up the rucksack and passed it over to Percy Weasley, who flicked his wand over it and nodded to the court.

“No wizarding magic detected.” He placed the rucksack on a second table and turned back to Hermione.

“Three pairs of trousers, the list I was given stated cotton canvas, however I was unable to find a muggle store that sold canvas clothing, so I substituted canvas trousers for denim jeans. Denim is a 100% cotton product and more readily available in clothing.” The jeans were placed on the second table and Percy’s wand waved over them. He nodded to the court but said nothing. “Three cotton button-down shirts.” The shirts were placed on top of the jeans and scanned, Percy nodding again. “Three cotton undershirts.” They joined the pile. “Six pairs cotton underpants.” As she spoke Hermione simply handed the items to Percy and kept going. “Six pairs of woollen socks. One pair of cotton pyjamas. One knitted woollen jumper. One pair of leather hiking boots. No wizarding magic applied to any item.”

Once Percy had agreed with her, Hermione quickly and efficiently began to pack the items up. First, she laid aside one change, underwear, jeans shirts, jumper, socks and boots, they were placed to one end of the second table. Then, in the middle of the table, she laid out a button-down shirt and on top of that an undershirt, followed by a pair of jeans folded at the waist, then two pairs of underpants and one pair of socks. Next she folded the shirt sleeves over the rest and laid the second pair of socks, toes touching at the neckline of the shirt. Once that was done, she began to roll the clothes into a tight log, she then folded the open cuff of the sock over this log. This was done to the pyjamas using the last pairs of underwear and socks.

“One change of clothes per roll.” She held them up for the court to see.

Percy again flicked his wand at the items and nodded to the court. Hermione then placed each of them inside the rucksack.

“This is the limit that the court is required by law to provide.” She stated.

“Agreed.” Malfoy nodded. “However, we are permitting other items to be provided. Auror Robards, please return Mr Potter’s mokeskin pouch to him. This item is bonded to Mr Potter’s magical signature and he has provided a list of contents, none of which, this court is concerned with.”

A middle-aged man with grey hair held up his hand, in a small dull brown pouch with a buttoned over flap. It sat in the palm of his hand with space to spare. Hermione picked the pouch from his hand and placed it alongside the unpacked change of clothes.

“Miss Granger, this court gave permission for you to provide five items to Mr Potter, on the condition that none of them neither contained, nor had wizarding magic applied to them. Have you procured those items? And will you present them to the court?” Malfoy said once Hermione had stepped back and Auror Robards had retaken his seat.

“I have and will.” Hermione answered. “First a muggle toiletry bag. All items still sealed.” She placed it on the table and Percy scanned it, before nodding. “A towel, large enough to be used as a blanket if need be.” It was placed and scanned, earning another nod. “One leather trench coat, muggle made.” She held it out and Percy scanned it and nodded. She then carefully folded it and added it to the rucksack. “One box muggle playing cards, two decks, one hundred and six individual cards.” She laid the box on the table and Percy scanned it. Another nod. “One bag of marbles, forty at ½ inch and one at one inch, held in a net bag.” The bag was laid on the table a scanned, before it and the cards were packed into the rucksack.

“Thank you, Miss Granger.” Malfoy turned to Harry. “Mr Potter, please take the clothes provided by Miss Granger and get changed. You may use the bathroom attached to this chamber. Please return to your seat once you’ve done so.” As Harry stood, Malfoy turned to Percy. “Mr Weasley, we thank you for your impartial presence and request that you complete the provided paperwork, in relation to today’s session.”

Harry tuned the chatter out as he headed for the bathroom. He had no idea was to come and there was a part of him that was terrified, but the greater part was just tired. He was exhausted and having to deal with the Weasley’s the evening before and again this morning, just made him feel worse. Oh, physically, he wasn’t injured, but after living for eight months as, what basically amounted to being homeless, meant that his physical and magical reserves were badly drained. Then duelling Voldy and being killed? No, he was tired. Too tired to deal with frantic people. Too tired to deal with an ungrateful public. Too tired to fight any longer.

He only prayed that Lady Magic would send him somewhere that he could rest.

Standing in front of the veil, in the so-called ‘death chamber’, Harry listened half-heartedly as Percy read out his conviction and sentence.

“… sentence is to be finalised at midday, today Sunday the third of May 1998.” Percy finished speaking, no longer pompous or arrogant.

“Thank you, Mr Weasley. You may step back.” Malfoy gestured for Percy to join the few people gathered. “Each person standing here has been scanned for wands, potions and portkeys and been found free of those items. We grant Mr Potter a few minutes to say his farewells but do request that each person approach him separately.”

Ginny came forward first and hugged Harry, tears running down her face, but she said nothing, it had all been said the night before… or rather... she’d screamed at him for nearly an hour before Malfoy had taken pity on him and enforced the Mordred’s Law visiting time limit. Releasing him, she collapsed into her mother’s arms and sobbed.

Ron was next, he gave Harry a reluctant hug and after looking him in the eye, nodded and retreated to stand by his mother and sister.

George looked at him with such a lost and sad look. A hug and a quiet ‘be happy, Harry’, all that was said.

Neville handed Harry a picture of the DA. “You should have that mate. To remember us by. We’ll never forget you.”

Luna kissed him on the cheek and gave him a familiar red and gold feather. “From Fawkes. It’s already been scanned and approved.” She said.

“Thanks, Luna.” He carefully tucked it and the photo into his mokeskin pouch.

Hermione stepped forward, her arms surrounded him and, as usual, he got a face full of hair.

“I love you, Harry.” She whispered. “Check the cards.” The second sentence was whispered, almost silently. As she drew back, she had one brow raised slightly in question and he nodded that he’d understood her message.

“Potter.” Draco Malfoy stepped away from his father’s side.

“Malfoy.” Harry nodded.

“My father said the Ministry aren’t able to give you any gold. He told me that no one here, today, is permitted to give you more than a single coin.”

“That’s what I was told, too.” Harry agreed.

“Mr Malfoy, does the restriction on money cover muggle money, as well?” Hermione asked. “I have a few notes in my purse.”

“You may give either a coin or a note, but it may be one item only.” It was Augusta Longbottom that answered.

“Thank you, Lady Longbottom.” Hermione said. She dug into her purse and pulled out a few notes.

“Father? Will you check them for any additional magic?” Draco pulled out a coin purse.

“Certainly, Draco.” Lucius waved his wand over the purse Draco held out and nodded. He turned to Hermione who held out a few notes and did the same over them.

“Everyone take a coin from me or a note from Granger and give it to Potter.” He held it open in front of each of him and each person took a coin from him or a note from Hermione as they moved to his other side. He then turned to Harry. “It’s the least I can do, as thanks for saving my life.” He shuddered. “I really thought I was going to die, then there you were, reaching out to save someone that tried to kill you. You’re a better man than I, Harry Potter.” He held out his hand and Harry nodded and clasped the other’s hand.

“I did what was right, not what was easy.” Harry said.

“I shall remember that.” Draco replied and handed Harry a single ʛalleon, before turning and leaving the chamber.

As the door closed behind Draco, the others came forward and each passed Harry another ʛalleon or a note. One by one he dropped the coins and notes into a small pocket on the front of his rucksack.

“Thank you.” Harry whispered.

“It is time, Mr Potter.” Lucius Malfoy said quietly.

“Yeah.” Harry turned his back on those gathered and faced the veil. He took a deep breath and entered the archway.

The last thing he heard was Lucius Malfoy’s comment. “I’m sorry, Potter.”


	3. Chapter 3

_“It is time, Mr Potter.” Lucius Malfoy said quietly._

_“Yeah.” Harry turned his back on those gathered and faced the veil. He took a deep breath and entered the archway._

_The last thing he heard was Lucius Malfoy’s comment. “I’m sorry, Potter.”_

Harry Potter emerged into light so bright that it took him a few precious seconds before he was able to focus on where he was. Once his vision cleared, he was confronted with a familiar sight.

Kings’ Cross Station.

A quick glance over his shoulder, confirmed that he’d just emerged from the same arched wall that was used to gain access to platform 9¾. A further glance around, saw him walk, seemingly calm and oblivious to the people around him, to a bench-seat a few yards away and sit down beside an abandoned newspaper. He didn’t pick it up, but only because something else had caught his attention.

Across two sets of tracks, Platform Eleven had a number of plate-glass windows. Why that had caught his attention made him freeze in shock. There in bright, sharp focus, was his own reflection. But it was that reflection that caused him to freeze, not its existence, but what it showed.

He looked like he had when he’d first started at Hogwarts.

His mind raced in circles, trying to latch onto anything that could ground his thoughts. But it was his body that reacted when something fluttered past his face. His hand darted out and his fingers closed over the item, before drawing it closer. He tilted his head in confusion at the sight of a £10 note. The sight of that note sent his mind racing in a set direction. He held money in his hand, money that someone had lost, dropped or thrown away. Money that he needed.

But what else did he need?

While he thought, his eyes dropped to the newspaper beside him.

3rd of May 1988. Exactly ten years before he went through the veil. By that he should be eight years old, but his appearance was closer to twelve. That left him off-balance. Was he just thrown back in time? Was he thrown in a parallel world? Did this world, whatever it may be, have magic? Was he here as a punishment? Was he here to earn his peace? Was this his reward?

He dragged his mind back to what he needed.

A wand. That was an essential. He wasn’t like Dumbledore, he couldn’t do much in the way of wandless. _Lumos_ and a weak _wingardium leviosa_ were about his limit.

Money. He had a small amount of ʛalleons and an even smaller amount of muggle pounds. ʛ10, §7 and, including the £10 he’d snatched out of the air, he had a total of £25 in muggle money.

An Identity. If he’d travelled back in time, there was already a Harry Potter living in surrey. But if this was an alternative or parallel world? Who knows? There might be a Harry Potter or, according to Hermione, there could even be a Harriet Potter. He needed to know if Lady Magic had done all She could, in depositing him here, or if She’d done more and provided a new identity.

Somewhere to live. Regardless of whether he was still Harry Potter or not, there was no way in **_hell_** he was going to live with the Dursleys. Not a chance. That meant, he’d have to provide his living accommodation for himself.

Now… how to get what he needed…? And from where…?

A wand meant Diagon Alley or its equivalent.

Money. He had an idea about that, but to follow through, he needed a wand. Two for Diagon.

Identity. Easiest way to find out, was an identity test from Gringotts. Three for Diagon.

Accommodation. Well… he’d lived in a tent for the last eight months, he could live in a tent, at least for the summer or until he sorted out the identity and money issues, especially if it was a wizarding tent. Four for Diagon.

Four out of four. That meant he was going to Diagon. Here’s hoping that this was his world or a parallel one that had magic.

He shoved the hand that still held the £10 note into a pocket in his jeans and stood. The quickest way to test would be platform 9¾, that is… if it wasn’t closed during the school year. That meant he had to walk… or… he could catch a train? Prices for kid’s fares were cheap, it would probably cost him less than £1. But that brought up the fact that he was already inside the fare barriers and he couldn’t take the risk of being asked for a ticket. He made his way from the platforms to the public area and had a quick stop in the bathroom to alter his appearance the best he could with what he had available.

The knitted jumper, that was entirely too like those Mrs Weasley made, went into his rucksack and given that it was early summer, he figured that leaving his button-down shirt open, was fine. His glasses, that had sat in his pocket, when he’d walked into the veil, were pulled out and put on, this proved to Harry that Lady Magic was definitely involved in his being where he was, as the glasses made his eyes ache. It was then, that he realised that he’d been able to see perfectly without them. He also wet his hair and combed it neatly, it only had to last until he’d bought his tickets and boarded the first train. The only other thing his did, was to swap the £10 note in his pocket, for one of the £5 notes that Hermione, Ron and George had given him.

He studied the map on the wall, and mentally ran through what to say if he was questioned, about someone his age, being alone on the trains. Coming to a decision, he headed for the ticket booth and waited until there were a few groups of people nearby.

“Hello.” He said to the woman manning (womaning?) the ticket booth. “Can I buy a ticket to get me to… um… um… oh, Charing Cross Station. Please?” He did his best imitation of Colin Creevey asking if he could take a picture of Harry.

“By yourself, lovey?” The woman frowned.

“Um…?” He looked over his shoulder like he was looking for someone’s approval.

“Ah.” The woman looked passed him, at a middle-aged couple looking in the direction of the booth, her frown easing. “Of course, you can, dear.” She pressed a few keys and stamped something and looked back at him. “That will be seventy-five pence.”

“Okay…” Harry pulled out the £5 and passed it over.

“Thank you, young man. Your change.” She skidded the change across the counter to him, along with the ticket.

“Thank you.” Harry smiled as brightly as he could. He gathered up the coins, notes and tickets and shoved the money into his pocket, before trotting over to the couple.

“Excuse me?” He asked, looking back at the ticket booth and waving. “Could you tell me which way to platform… um…” He looked at his ticket. “Oh, Platform Three.”

“Platform Three?” The woman asked, smiling at the ticket booth.

“Yes’m. I’m going to Charing Cross Station, it’s the closest station to the Victoria Embankment Gardens. My godfather’s house is near there. And I miss him, so much.” Wasn’t that the truth, even two years on, Harry’s heart still ached at the loss.

Obviously, this was the right thing to say, as the woman and her partner smiled at him. “Why don’t we show you the way?” The man said, giving the woman a speaking look.

“Ooh, yes please?” Harry did his best to act like a younger Hermione presented with a new book.

The man chuckled gently, and Harry felt a stab of guilt for misleading them, but the last thing he needed was for the woman from the ticket booth, to set a guard to watch out for him. And the alternative was walking the streets from King’s Cross to where, he hoped, the Leaky Cauldron was. Nah, the train was faster, they ran every few minutes and the whole journey should only take about a quarter of an hour.

True to his estimates, Harry left Charing Cross Station less than twenty minutes later. It only took him a few minutes to exit the station and trundle up the tree-lined Strand to reach Charing Cross Road, from there it was only a couple of hundred yards to the quiet little shopping area that was home to the Leaky Cauldron. He hoped…

The sight of that familiar blue door nearly drove Harry to his knees. But the question still remained… was it magical? That question was answered as Harry crossed the muggle-based notice-me-not wards and felt them tingle on his skin. This world had a magical shopping district and he was going to access it, one way or another.

One inside the wards and out of sight of any muggles, he pulled his mokeskin pouch from his pocket and carefully retrieved his invisibility-cloak-wrapped album, before sliding the album back into safekeeping. The cloak was shaken out and draped across his shoulders. For the first time since opening his eyes to King’s Cross Station, Harry was glad that he’d been de-aged, at least now his cloak covered him from head to toe and didn’t leave his feet exposed.

Now all he had to do was, wait for someone to enter or exit the Cauldron, so he could get in the door without being spotted.

He’d barely finished that thought, when the Cauldron’s door opened, and a man and boy emerged. Harry quickly stuck out a foot and let the door bump against it. He glanced at the man and boy, hoping they hadn’t noticed, and sure enough, the two were talking about going to the cinema. As Harry looked at the boy, recognition set in, he knew those dreadlocks, but he’d never seen them that short before, nor had he ever seen them without a pair of redheads close by.

Lee Jordan. Harry remembered Lee sitting in the Great Hall, holding a sobbing Alicia Spinnet, after having told her of Fred’s death. Harry shuddered and forced the thought away, he couldn’t think about that, not yet, it was still too fresh, too painful.

He pushed the door of the Cauldron open, just enough for him to squeeze through, trying to make it seem like the door just hadn’t closed properly. Apparently, he was successful, as old Tom, the barkeep, yelled for someone to ‘give the door a bang, would ya?’ Harry stepped aside just in time for a much younger Kingsley to give the door a hefty swing and slam it closed, he followed the black Auror into the pub’s main room, but when Kingsley found himself a seat, Harry kept moving, through the pub towards the back hall and the entrance to Diagon Alley.

He leant on the wall and again waited. This time it was a few minutes before the hall door opened and Harry was able to slip through, into the tiny courtyard, but here his timing was excellent, an elderly couple were just returning from the Alley and Harry was able to squeeze around them before the wall closed.

Diagon Alley.

Right. First order of business was a wand.

But… where to get one? There were really only two options. Ollivander's and Knockturn Alley. Of course, there was Ollivander's, it had been around for centuries and Harry was fairly confident that Gregorovitch had a shop in the darker alley. But... Ollivander was out, simply because he was able to identify his customers on sight and Harry wasn’t sure that Gregorovitch didn’t have the same… gift. Was there anywhere else, in either alley, that sold wands?

While Harry was wracking his brain, trying to remember, an elegant blonde man strolled past. Harry frowned, Lucius Malfoy wasn’t strutting about, he was just strolling along. It wasn’t what Harry considered normal for the arrogant git. Enough, that Harry decided he would follow the man, if anyone knew where illicit goods were to be sold, it would be a Malfoy.

From Diagon Alley and into Knockturn Alley, Harry stayed close to Malfoy, not close enough to step on his heels if he stopped suddenly, but close enough that no one would get between them. When Malfoy pushed open the door into Borgan and Burkes, Harry grinned. That was just the place he needed, he remembered seeing a barrel of wands near the counter before he’d hurried out of the shop, in the summer before second year.

“Borgan.” Malfoy nodded to the shopkeeper.

“Mr Malfoy, welcome. What can I do for you, this fine day?”

“I’ve brought those items I wish to part with, as we discussed last week.” Malfoy answered.

“Oh, very good, very good. Shall we go into the office, it wouldn’t do to have someone see them before we complete our business. Now, would it?” The smarmy old man simpered and flicked his wand at the door, locking it firmly.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and sneered. “Lead the way.”

“Certainly, sir. This way, if you please.” The two men disappeared through an almost hidden door, that closed behind them.

Harry quietly moved towards the counter and sure enough, there were the wands. Not in a barrel, like he remembered, but on tiny shelves, very much like the criss-cross shelving of a wine-rack but much smaller, each wand handle/grip sticking out.

He crouched down beside the shelves and starting at the bottom, he closed his hand around each wand, waiting to see how it would react. Some barely warmed in his hands, others tingled, and some burned or stung. It wasn’t until he reached those at shoulder height that one filled him with the same warm rushing feeling that his phoenix feather wand had given him. He pulled it out and laid it on the edge of the counter beside him and kept going. Who knew if that was going to be the wand that matched him best?

Two rows up and another wand filled him with warmth and power. He pulled it down and picked up the first wand. The two together send a pulse of power through him, he could actually **_feel_** them choose him and each other, their power levelling out and balancing with each other’s. He glanced at the tags tied to each handle, before spluttering in shock.

“Bloody hell.” He whispered. “ʛ10 each, you have _**got**_ to be kidding me? Even Ollivander only charges ʛ7 for brand new wands. Damned if I’m being ripped off.” Harry intended to pay for what he got, but he wasn’t paying those prices. Not even for dual-cored wands.

As he headed for the counter, he spotted a box of, what at first glance seemed to be leather straps, but it was only a few days since he’d watched Bill and Fleur strap holsters onto their wrists.

“Cool…” He was still whispering.

His hands rifled through the box until he had two holsters, one arm and one leg. He drew them out and after snorting at the prices on their ancient tags, he removed the tags and strapped them to his right arm and left thigh. Removing the tags from the wands, they were quickly slipped into a holster. A quick test and both wands easily slid into his hands, how the holster on his leg did this, he didn’t know, as it was under his clothes, but he’d only had to tap his hand against his leg and his wand rested in his palm. Something to think about at a later time, he had no idea how long Malfoy and Borgan would take before emerging from that back room and he needed to be ready to leave with Malfoy.

Around behind the counter, Harry pulled out his mokeskin pouch, ready to pull out a pair of shiny ʛalleons. But he paused. He couldn’t keep using his mokeskin pouch as a coin pouch, it wasn’t feasible in the long run.

A peg board at the other end of the counter held the solution. Clumps of bags, pouches, satchels, totes and duffels hung above a small collection of trunks.

“Cool.” Harry whispered. “Let’s see what we have here.”

Reading the tags, he saw that the trunks started at ʛ100 and went up, most having elaborate protections and charms, a few had expanded capacities and while Harry was interested, he definitely didn’t have the ʛ10,000 plus that Borgan was asking. But the bags and pouches were a different story. One hook held a clump of basic coin pouches, that only had expand-as-necessary and featherlight charms and this is where he went. He ended up with a plain, dull brown bag, small enough to go under his clothes or in his pocket, but still large enough to get his hand into.

Then he contemplated his rucksack. Sure, it was canvas, but it was also clearly muggle made. If he was going to be out in public, he needed to blend in a bit better. For that he needed two more items. A simple murky brown, battered leather satchel was slipped under his cloak. Two internal pockets with expanded capacity meant he could shove his rucksack into the satchel with room to spare.

A flick of a wand and a lightweight, nondescript day robe shrank, to be the right size for Harry, as he was now.

He quickly pulled off his invisibility cloak, pushed his head and one arm went through the strap of the satchel, before putting the robe over that. Then a noise from the door that Malfoy and Borgan had disappeared through, made him throw his cloak around his shoulders and draw the hood over his head. Behind the counter he quickly tossed a few coins on the shelf under the counter, he knew the shopkeeper would find them, as he left the tags, from his items, with them. He figured that a second-hand wand in a second-hand holster, both of which had been in the shop for more than twenty years according to their tags, were only worth ʛ1. A ʛalleon was also a fair price for a second-hand coin pouch in a second-hand satchel, again their tags said they’d been in stock for years. But the robe? That was in excellent condition and near new, from what Harry could tell, so he was happy to pay the asking price of §4.

Another noise made him scurry back around the counter, towards the door.

And not a moment too soon, as Malfoy and Borgan emerged into the shop.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr Malfoy, a hard bargain, indeed. But I do believe that I have a buyer for the dagger. The necklace, however, that may have to be forwarded to a colleague abroad.”

“As long as it is no longer in my possession, nor comes near my family, I do not care what you do with them, Borgan.”

“Of course, sir. Now, we agreed on ʛ175 for the dagger and ʛ1250 for the necklace, correct?” Borgan asked.

“We did.” Malfoy confirmed.

“Assuming that you wish to keep this transaction… _sub rosa_ …? I doubted that you wished a traceable transaction and as such would prefer payment by Gringotts’ draughts.” The shopkeeper reached under the counter, pausing to frown as he saw Harry’s coins but refusing to be side-tracked, and retrieved a lockbox. Pulsing his magic into it, Borgan opened the box and began to rifle through it.

“A ʛ1000 draught, four ʛ100 draughts, two ʛ10 draughts and… ʛ5 in coin. For a total of ʛ1425.” He counted out the seven parchment cards and five coins, as he laid them on the counter. “Is this acceptable, sir?”

Malfoy nodded sharply. “Quite.”

Borgan smiled, a sickly mockery of a smile. “Very good, sir. Is there anything else I can assist you with today?”

“No, not today, but perhaps in the future. My wife’s parents’ estate is yet to be finalised, there will be many items there, to be… removed…” Malfoy said the last word distastefully.

“Certainly, sir. Borgan and Burkes are always ready to help a client.”

“I shall remember that.” Malfoy nodded politely. “Good day.” With that, Malfoy gathered up the cards and the coins, they were dropped into an elegantly embroidered pouch and Malfoy headed for the door. He stepped through it and paused to nod to Borgan again, giving Harry a chance to slip under Malfoy’s arm and into the dingy alley.

As Malfoy strode briskly back towards Diagon, Harry took the chance to cast a notice-me-not to gradually diminish, on a timed-delay. If he’d got his timing right, it would end when he was about halfway down the main shopping alley. Once the charm was in place, he carefully removed his invisibility cloak and making sure that he kept pace with Malfoy, shoved it into the satchel.

Now, he was ready to get started.

Ninety-three Diagon Alley.

The future home of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Harry looked at the empty shopfront and sighed. He couldn’t think about that right now. He ducked into Technic Alley and then into the tiny alley between what would be WWW and a bootmaker’s shop. The little alley didn’t really count as an alley, as it only went far enough back for a set of stairs that went up to the landing that gave access to the flats above the two shops, then there was a second set of stairs that went up to the roof of WWW, but not to the bootmaker’s. Fred and George had taken he, Ron and Hermione up there the week before the trio had started their sixth year at Hogwarts.

Standing on the landing, Harry concentrated and cast a strong notice-me-not, placing the stairs under a semi-permanent version of the charm. That done he climbed the stairs to the roof. Taking a look around the roof, he debated with himself over the necessity of casting a notice-me-not over the rooftop itself, but decided that he’d rather overcompensate, than be caught out.

Charms done, it was time to assess his supplies and make a plan.

Harry [_scourgified_](cleaning%20charm) a small section of the floor, near the building’s front façade. Sitting with his back against the façade, he emptied first the satchel, then the rucksack and his mokeskin pouch. He needed to determine what supplies he had and work out what he still needed.

Three rolls of clothes, a towel, a bag of toiletries, a jumper, a trench coat, a box of cards, a bag of marbles, a satchel, a rucksack, a mokeskin pouch, a coin pouch, ʛ7, §3, £24.25, his photo album, the snitch, his firebolt, the marauders’ map, Neville’s photo, Fawkes' feather from Luna, Hedwig’s feather and the broken pieces of his phoenix feather wand. Interestingly enough, the clothes in the rucksack were still the appropriate size for adult-Harry, the jumper that he’d removed at King’s Cross Station was the only other item size-appropriate to him as he stood, now.

Eyeing the £10 notes, Harry hummed in thought. He carefully packed the clothes back into the rucksack, along with the towel, toiletries, trench coat and jumper. He looked at the cards and marbles, remembering Hermione’s message, but decided that he could study them later, there were more urgent things to dealt with, and they, too, went into the rucksack. He pushed the rucksack into the rear pocket of the satchel and focused on what was left.

The album, firebolt, snitch, map, feathers and wand went back into his mokeskin pouch, which went back on its leather thong around his neck and pushed under his shirt to sit flat against his sternum.

The muggle money was dropped into the main pocket of the satchel. While the ʛalleons and §ickles went into the coin pouch, which he left sitting in front of him. The invisibility cloak joined the rucksack in the satchel’s rear pocket and that left only the day robe, which he would be wearing.

Time to get creative.

He drew out a wand and waved it, transfigured a stick into a pencil and a leaf into a piece of paper.

The £10 note had given him an idea. What happens to money that is lost, abandoned or discarded? Muggles loose coins and notes every day. What about pouches and wallets? Muggles lose wallets, do wizards lose coin pouches? Maybe wizards can summon them back, but they’d have to be in relatively close proximity to where they’d lost an item, or a summoning charm wouldn’t be able to identify the item to retrieve. Right?

So, that means that there’s a possibility that there’d be ʛalleons, §ickles and κnuts just lying about waiting to be found. What constitutes lost? What constitutes abandoned? What constitutes discarded? For what timeframe? Within what distance?

Lost, Abandoned or Discarded (Harry abbreviated this to read as LAD) items were items that the last person to have the item either misplaced it, dropped it, or deliberately discarded the item. The timeframe was interesting, it depended on what you were focusing on when you cast the spells, he could alter it to suit his needs, initially it would be a longer period but once he knew what he was doing and got it passed Gringotts? Then it could change. Distance was again, flexible and he decided that he would start with one hundred yards, but like the timeframe that would later change.

Could he create a spell-chain that would identify the items, then place them under a modified notice-me-not, before summoning them to him?

For half an hour he scribbled, scratching things out and writing them again, as he refined his spells. In the end he discovered that he had to do it in three parts, but thankfully he could cast them with only a minor delay between sections.

[ _“_ _Amissa locus desertus et abiecta_ _ʛalleons, §ickles, κnut_ _s.”_](locate%20lost,%20abandoned%20or%20discarded%20%CA%9Balleons,%20%C2%A7ickles,%20%CE%BAnuts) With a board sweeping gesture to cover the entire skyline around him, Harry cast the first part of the chain.

[“ _Sita est celare items_.”](hide%20the%20located%20items) He did the same sweeping gesture, before taking a deep breath, if this worked his money issues would be, if not resolved, then at least a little less dire.

“[ _Accio_](summoning%20charm) LAD ʛalleons, §ickles and κnuts.” Again, with the wand movements but this time he also circled his wand above his head and pointed his wand at the slated surface he was standing on and pushed his magic into his wand, releasing the spell.

At first nothing happened and Harry for a moment, wondered whether anything would happen. Then the first coin, a §ickle, flew over the building’s façade. That was the just the start. For the next minute, coins flew towards him, only the fact that he’d been the one to cast the charm allowing him to see them and dive towards the façade, let him avoid be pummelled by them.

He stared at the small mountain of coins, bronze silver and even gold, that lay piled nearly ten inches high. Harry shook his head in disbelief and dragged himself to his feet. A few more deep breaths and he cast the spell chain again, this time targeted at muggle money. Only this time he knew what was coming and quickly sat himself out of the way. Coins and notes flew and floated around the rooftop and he was ever so glad that he’d cast a notice-me-not over the roof, as well as having one as part of the spells.

When the last of the muggle notes fluttered down to join the pile, Harry shook his head, again.

“Well, that works.” He huffed and levitated all the muggle money into the main pocket of his satchel and then set the wizarding money flying into his coin pouch.

Something tickled at the back of his mind and it took Harry a couple of minutes to work out what it was.

“Gringotts’ draughts!” He gasped.

It took him just seconds to recast his LAD spell, aimed at Gringotts’ draughts, instead of money. Seconds passed and like earlier things began to float down in front of him. Harry had heard of Gringotts’ draughts before, but until today he hadn’t ever seen one. He knew that they came in multiple amounts. ʛ10, ʛ100, ʛ1000, ʛ10,000 and ʛ100,000, he didn’t think that there was one for ʛ1,000,000, but he could easily be wrong.

He gathered up the pieces of parchment and studied them. One ʛ10,000 draught, four ʛ1000 draughts, five ʛ100 draughts and two ʛ10 draughts.

“ʛ14,520. Not a bad haul. That should get me set up… at least for a while.” He sighed. “I miss Mione. She’d know what I need to do next.”

Harry sat back focused. If Hermione was here what would she be suggesting as their next action?

Seconds ticked into minutes, before he looked, sharply.

“Scribulus’ for ink, quill and parchment, to write down the charms, before my transfiguration fades. To Gringotts to ask about ID tests, vaults and get these charms notated. Maybe ask about exchange pouches. Buy a trunk, a tent and groceries.” Harry blinked. “Okay… that was weird. Channelling Hermione… never done that before.” He heaved himself to his feet and stuffed the draughts into the coin pouch. “Scribulus’ it is.”


	4. Chapter 4

_If Hermione was here what would she be suggesting as their next action?_

_Seconds ticked into minutes._

_“Scribulus’ for ink, quill and parchment, to write down the charms, before my transfiguration fades. To Gringotts to ask about ID tests, vaults and get these charms notated. Maybe ask about exchange pouches. Buy a trunk, a tent and groceries.” Harry blinked. “Okay… that was weird. Channelling Hermione… never done that before.” He heaved himself to his feet and stuffed the draughts into the coin pouch. “Scribulus’ it is.”_

The goblin frowned at Harry from across the desk.

“Are you aware that you are under glamours?” It asked.

“Yeah…” Harry sighed. “Two of my mate’s brothers are pranksters, they like potions, drinking anything at their place…? It can be… dangerous. I’m not twelve years old, I’m seventeen, I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks.” Or that had been the case, before he'd walked into the veil.

“Ah, I see. What can Gringotts do for you today?”

“I need some information and after that? It depends on the answers.” Harry replied.

“Information? I may be able to assist, but until I know what type if information you need…?” The goblin huffed.

Harry looked at the notebook in his hand, making it clear that he was doing so. “First. Identity tests? How do they work? I mean... The cost? And what’s involved in doing one?”

“There are three types of tests. Identity. Inheritance. And Propriety. Each requires three drops of the recipient’s blood into a potion and the potion poured onto a treated and charmed sheet of parchment. An Identity test costs ʛ5, an Inheritance test costs ʛ20, as does a Propriety Test.”

Harry wrote down the goblin’s answer.

“Can tests be bought and taken away?”

“Yes… but they aren’t considered legal, if not validated by Gringotts.”

“For what I want that’s not really an issue. My cousin… there’s been some doubt about his parentage.” Harry said without actually saying what he meant.

“You can bring them here.” The goblin said. “Or pay for a test on their behalf.”

“They’re muggles.” Harry corrected.

“Ah, a muggleborn.” Like that answered why Harry was asking all these questions.

“No, sir. My mother was, but she died when I was a baby and I was sent to live with my muggle Uncle.” That was the truth, if you looked sideways at it. “He doesn’t like magic much, there was a huge argument over me going to Hogwarts, screaming, shouting, broken doors, that sort of thing. There’s no way, he’d **_ever_** come to the Alley, **_or_** let my cousin come here. If I were to take something with me… that’s different, he'd never admit to seeing anything magical, not in action. The result, sure, but not in action.”

“Ah, I see. Yes, identity tests be purchased for home testing, however… to be legal a test must be validated by Gringotts. Because you’ll not be having validations done, the cost is less, ʛ2 covers the cost of the potion and the parchment. Inheritance and Propriety tests must be done at Gringotts.”

“Do you have a way of creating a family tree or history?”

“We don’t, but there is a Family Heritage Specialist in Diagon. Heritage Options, they’ve a small door in between Ollivander’s and Scribulus’. I do not know what they require for the creation of a family history.”

“Right.” Harry made another note in his notebook and turned a page. “Vaults. What’s involved in opening one? How do I access it here? Can I access it externally? Do you have something that connects with the muggle world, that I can use in the muggle world?”

“Opening a vault requires a validated identity test, freshly done or one that has been connected to your magical signature. To access a vault in person, you simply present yourself and your key, to a teller and either request a transaction or to physically visit your vault. For external access we have linked money purses, where you simply state the amount and pulse your magic into the Gringotts’ cartouche on the purse. We have subsidiary branches in the muggle world and many muggleborns use these, as opposed to a vault, as any other muggle banks may transfer to and from their accounts. These subsidiary branches offer the usual muggle access cards.”

Harry wrote furiously for a few seconds. “Great.” He turned another page. “Do you have some way for me to exchange muggle money for ʛalleons, §ickles or κnuts, externally, without visiting any branches?”

“We have exchange pouches. There are a number of different types. Single transfers. Meaning… From muggle pounds to ʛalleons. From ʛalleons to pounds. From ʛalleons to draughts. From draughts to ʛalleons. Dual transfers. ʛalleons to pounds and back. ʛalleons to draughts and back. Then there’s our omni-directional pouch. One side works in pounds and the other does both ʛalleons and draughts.”

“Explain that one a bit more please.”

“An omni-directional pouch? It had two pockets, the exterior of one will have a small medallion with the pound symbol on it while the second pocket has two medallions, one that appears to be a miniature ʛalleon and the second is engraved with the Gringotts’ logo. Now… Say you have a handful of pound notes and wish to change them to a Gringotts’ draught? With one of our omni-directional pouches, you place the pounds in the side marked with the ʛalleon medallion and pulse your magic into the medallion. This will exchange the pounds for ʛalleons, only ʛalleons not §ickles or κnuts, so please be aware that you may still end up with a small amount of muggle money, which you need to remove before progressing any further. Then you would pulse your magic into the second medallion, the Gringotts’ logo. This will exchange the ʛalleons for Gringotts’ draughts. If you have a draught and which to exchange it for pounds? There are a couple of options. One you can simply reverse the actions to acquire ʛalleons, then transfer them to the opposite side to exchange for pounds. Or two… you can lay a Gringotts’ draught on a flat surface or hold it by a corner over a container and pulse your magic into the ʛalleon amount printed onto the draught. This will terminate the charms used by Gringotts and each tiny image of a ʛalleon on the draught will revert to a ʛalleon coin. At which point the parchment card will be worthless as a draught. If, however, you were to bring such a card to Gringotts, we will purchase it back from your, for ʛ1, as it already contains the enchantments needed for replenishing the draught. It takes three goblins, three hours to create a draught from scratch, but only one goblin, one hour, if using a depleted draught. ʛalleons can then be exchanged for pounds using the pouch.” The goblin waited while Harry made his notes, then continued. “The pouch can also be used to exchange smaller denominations for larger ones. As an example. You have a jar of muggle coins. You can pour them into the pound side and activate that side, it will exchange to the largest possible denomination. Although muggles do have £50 notes, Gringotts uses £20 notes as the largest available in our exchange pouches. This is done as many muggle businesses prefer to use smaller notes. The same applies to ʛalleons, §ickles and κnuts. A jar of κnuts can be placed into the Gringotts’ side of the pouch and exchanged for ʛalleons and §ickles. Which can them be exchanged for draughts. And so on. Each exchange will take approximately ten seconds to complete.”

“Brilliant…” Harry did his best to smile without showing his teeth.

“They are incredibly handy, yes.” The goblin agreed.

“How can I get one? What are the conditions of use?”

“If you have a vault, the setup cost is minute and you pay an ongoing fee each month, with the cost being removed from your vault, on the date of acquisition. If you don’t have a vault, the setup cost is larger. The actual transfer is where Gringotts makes our fees. Over the counter the exchange between pounds and ʛalleons is ʛ1 equals £4.93, but with our exchange pouches, it is ʛ1 equals £5.”

“So, I lose seven pence for every £5?”

“That is correct.” The goblin nodded.

“And how much is the setup? Both with and without a vault?” Harry asked.

“With a vault, ʛ5 in advance and §1 per month. Without a vault, ʛ15. And the pouch has unlimited use with both options.” The goblin replied.

Harry bit his lip while he considered what to do. He handed over a sheet of parchment.

“Please read this.”

“Why?”

“Muggles frequently drop a coin or lose a note or wallet or throw away a small coin, as far as the police… uh, the muggle Aurors, I mean. As far as they are concerned, those coins or notes that are later found by someone else, become the finder’s possession. Wallets and purses are usually handed in to the police, if they aren’t claimed within a certain timeframe, they may be claimed by the finder. I am assuming the wizarding world works the same and have created a spell-chain to locate and summon such lost, abandoned or discarded monies. I would prefer that Gringotts be aware of this.”

“Interesting. I note that the timeframe and distance is only nominated once. Is there a reason for that?”

“Yes, it’s more an estimate than a set number. It’s slightly flexible, some people are a more precise judge of distance or time than others and it… kind of depends on what the caster judges.” Harry tried not to give too much away. “Some people judge months by date, the first of the month to the first of the month. Others by the moon, a month is twenty-eight days. Others again average it out and say that a month is thirty or thirty-one days. Distance? Some people are excellent judges of distance and others are a little imprecise.”

“Ah.” Was all the goblin said as he made a few notes. “Do you have a vault with us?”

“My Uncle refused permission and in the muggle world, we don’t come of age until eighteen and guardians have the right to refuse permission or to close an account or withdraw us from education. I left Hogwarts at the end of my sixth year. Without NEWTs, employment in the wizarding world is limited. Without a muggle education, employment in the muggle world is even more limited. However, the muggle military, the Army, Navy and Airforce aren’t too worried about certificates, as long as you can follow orders. But without a guardian’s consent, you can’t join before you turn eighteen.”

“And that is your intention?” 

“They’ll post you anywhere in the country, so I’d have the opportunity to use my LAD spell-chain to find money simply waiting to be found. But I don’t want to give up using my magic, so I figured that if I bought an expanded trunk, I could use that for extra storage or when I want to transfigure or charm something.” Harry answered without actually answering the question.

“Well… normally we would add a copy of your charm to your vault file, but without a vault and the possibility of you not opening one in the future, the best I can do is note it on a pouch purchase, if you were to purchase one, of course.”

Harry just nodded, while he tried to think of what name to put on the paperwork.

“Might I suggest you not put the name you are commonly known by, on such a purchase. And keep it simple, something that you will remember, but something that no one else is likely to guess.”

“Okay…” Harry nodded. “I’d like one of the omni-directional pouches, please. And four identity tests, to take away.”

“Very good, young sir. I shall send for the tests. Please excuse me.” The goblin crossed to a goblin-sized door and disappeared through it.

Harr meanwhile sat and thought. What should he call himself? There were three people that Harry considered ‘his’ family. Hermione, Sirius and Remus. But what and what order? He hummed and scribbled in his notebook, different ideas, different names, first-names, middle names and surnames.

By the time the goblin returned, Harry had reached a decision, this wasn’t going to be his permanent name, that would depend on the results of the ID tests. No, this was just a temporary name, but how temporary was another matter.

“Sir? If you’d fill out this form, please? No need to attach a magical signature, just a written one is fine. After all this is not a magically binding contract.” The goblin pushed a sheet of parchment across the desk.

Harry picked up the quill and began to fill out the form in the name of Ewan Rion Granger. Ewan being the Scottish version of Evan, for his mother. Rion was as close as he would go to Orion, for Sirius. Granger, was of course, for Hermione.

Ten minutes later he was back on the roof of WWW. He laid the exchange pouch on the ground in front of him with his satchel beside it. He pulled out the Gringotts’ draughts and tucked them under his leg. The first exchange was muggle money to ʛalleons, which tipped back into his coin pouch. Then the draughts went in and were reverted back to ʛalleons, with the parchment carefully put back in the satchel.

The sight of his coin pouch prompted Harry to try and use his spell-chain and summon any containers holding LAD money, be-it muggle or magical. Then a frown pulled at him as he thought about what he’d told the goblin about the timeframe and distance. A few seconds of indecision and Harry sighed. He recast the spell-chain, but this time he decreased the timeframe down to three minutes and the distance increased to one mile.

Half an hour passed before Harry had finished his summoning and exchanged everything for ʛalleons and draughts. He’d kept £60 and the little bit of change in muggle money, placing it in a plain men’s wallet that had been one of the LAD containers. All other containers had been emptied and banished back where they’d come from.

A final count of his LAD money was £64.80 in muggle money, ʛ28,460 in draughts and ʛ9, §14 and κ22.

Time to go shopping.

A few minutes were spent working out what shops were where, before Harry entered the first shop.

Bags and Boxes sold everything you could think of when it came to storage. Bags, boxes and trunks of all shapes and sizes.

“Afternoon.” The shopkeeper greeted Harry. “How can I help you?”

“I’m after a trunk…” He started.

“Well, you’re in the right place for that.” The wizard laughed. “What sort of trunk and what do you plan to do with it?”

“Ah, that takes a little explaining.” Harry proceeded to tell the shopkeeper the same, mostly true, tale that he’d told the goblin.

“I see…” The wizard sighed. “It happens all too often, lad.”

“Yeah, I figured that I couldn’t be the first and likely wouldn’t be the last.” Harry gave him a half-hearted grin.

“So, the military, huh?”

Harry just shrugged. “There’s not a lot of other options and they’ll help you get muggle qualifications as you go.”

“But you don’t want to give up doing magic?”

“No, sir. I was thinking of… maybe an expanded trunk, a couple of compartments, I could use some as storage and one as my main magical space.” Harry said.

“That would work. We have limits on expanded capacity trunks, you understand. We can’t sell you anything with more than a total of four hundred square feet or four compartments, not unless you’re an Auror.”

“Nope, I was planning on it, at least until I left Hogwarts.” Harry sighed. “But four hundred square feet? That’s not really much space.”

“Lad? I suggest you get the biggest I’m allowed to sell you, then you trot off down Technic Alley to Add a Room or Two and see if they can help you.”

“Add a Room or Two?” Harry asked.

“They do wizard spaces. Wizard spaces are created very different to expanded spaces, so you can put one inside the other. You can’t put a wizard space inside a wizard space, likewise with expanded spaces, but combing the two? Yeah, you can do that.”

Harry’s face lit up. “Wow, that great, thanks, I’ll do that.”

“So, the biggest trunk I can sell you is four hundred square feet, over four compartments.” The wizard said.

“Yeah…” Harry hummed. “Let’s see… Two compartments at ten-by-ten, one hundred square feet each. One at one hundred and eighty or ten-by-eighteen feet. And one at twenty, four-by-five feet.”

“Not a bad mix. Now how would you like them set out? What order? Vertical or horizontal? Where do you want the entry? And what timber would you like?”

Harry frowned. What would Hermione say? “Vertical access. Compartment one, is the twenty square feet, I’d like the entry to be on the shorter size and to the left. Two and three are the one hundred square feet and entry is the middle of a side, as they’re all the same, it doesn’t matter. Four is the largest, entry to be the middle of the longer side. And I’d prefer oak.”

“I can do that. I’ll assume you want lighting, ventilation and atmospheric controls?” Harry nodded in answer. “Right, just let me work out an order sheet for you.” The wizard jotted down locations and sizes, adding in the various controls. “Lad, I’ll warn you now, it’s going to be expensive. The physical trunk is ʛ10, the three extra compartments are ʛ50 each, and the expanded space… four hundred square feet is ʛ4000.” He held up a hand. “The Ministry sets the prices, not me. ʛ10 per foot for all expansions.”

“Damn.” Harry grunted. That was a big chunk of money gone in one go. But it was still a better deal than the ones he’d seen in Borgan and Burkes. “Do it, before I change my mind.” He ordered.

“I need to know you’ve got the funds, lad. Ministry orders. ʛ4000 is a lot of money.”

“Hang on.” Harry pulled out his satchel and shuffled through the draughts until he found the ones he wanted. “Here.” He laid the required number of draughts.

“Good enough, lad, have a seat and I’ll have your trunk ready to go in a minute or two.” The wizard flicked his wand and an unstained, unsealed trunk slid from a storage room. An array of runes were quickly carved into the surfaces of the trunks’ interior frame and the wizard cast a silencing charm around him, before creating the multiple compartments, then he chanted the charm that locked and activated the runes expanding each one. Another flick and the wizard took a deep breath.

“All done.” He turned the trunk to face Harry. “This point here?” He pointed at the centre of the lock. “This is where you set the blood securities. This is the physical activation point for shrink and enlarge.” He pointed to a cartouche at one end of the trunk’s lid. “All my trunks have featherlight, fire repellent and weather protections as standard. You’ll find a product guide book in the first compartment, but it’s fairly easy to figure out.”

“That’s good to know.” Harry said.

“Better to be prepared than lose everything.” The wizard warned.

“Isn’t that the truth?” Harry laughed. “ʛ4160? Right?” He counted out draughts to that amount.

“Yep. That’s it. Good, lad. You go and see Albert, you tell him Carson sent you. Tell him your story and what you plan to do. He’ll do right by you. He’s my brother and we’ve both lost friends that were in the same position you’re in, lad, if we can help you, we will.”

“Thank you.” Harry shook Carson’s hand and after shrinking the trunk and tucking it in this satchel, he left the shop headed for Technic Alley.


	5. Chapter 5

_“Yep. That’s it. Good, lad. You go and see Albert, you tell him Carson sent you. Tell him your story and what you plan to do. He’ll do right by you. He’s my brother and we’ve both lost friends that were in the same position you’re in, lad, if we can help you, we will.”_

_“Thank you.” Harry shook Carson’s hand and after shrinking the trunk and tucking it in this satchel, he left the shop headed for Technic Alley._

Three doors into the alley, he saw the sign for Add a Room or Two and he had to take a few breaths before stepping through the door.

“Good Morning!” A perky little blonde witch chirped at him. “Welcome to Add a Room or Two. What can we do for you?” Ye Gods, she bounced like Colin and Dennis.

“Uh…? I… Carson sent me to speak to Albert?”

“Okay, just give me a moment to tell him.” She darted off towards a pair of blue doors and leant around one. “Boss? There’s a kid here, said Mr Carson sent him to speak to you.”

“Carson? Send him in then, Melissa.” A man’s voice answered.

“Yes, sir.” She bounced back over to Harry. “Boss says, head on in. The blue door on the right.” Her attention was instantly back on the door.

“Right…” Harry edged away from the counter and crossed the room to the indicated door. He debated knocking, but before he got the chance the man spoke again.

“Come on in, lad.”

Harry entered the room and found a simple office, but one that was oddly disproportionate to the door’s position in the shop.

“I’m Albert. Have a seat and tell me why Carson sent you.” A heavyset wizard with dark brown hair pointed at a chair opposite him.

“Yes, sir.” Harry nodded and sat where directed. “Um, I went to buy a trunk and I told the wizard there, Carson I suppose. I told him about why I wanted it. My mother was a muggleborn and…” for a few minutes he told Albert what he’d told the goblins and Carson.

“Ah…” Albert sighed and nodded. “And did the idiot brother of mine say anything about why he was sending you to me?”

“He mentioned something about being able to put wizard spaces inside expanded spaces?” Harry answered more as a question than as a statement.

“Ah…” Albert nodded again. “Wizard spaces are expensive, lad, as much as a trunk and more, can you afford it?”

Before Harry could answer, an older wizard in overalls tapped on the door.

“Boss? Four more for the burn box.” The wizard didn’t enter the office, he just reached in and dropped what appeared to be four lidless boxes, into a much larger box, before leaving.

“Burn box?” Harry asked, suddenly curious.

“Burn box.” Albert snorted in amusement. “I have no idea why they call it that, we’ve never burnt it.” He saw that Harry was still curious and sighed. “We make wizard spaces here and we’re often asked to change a room, meaning remove an existing room and replace it with a new space. Sometimes it’s to change a nursery to a children’s room, other times it’s change a child’s room to a guest suite, or to an office, or upgrade a potions lab or bathroom, remove a potions lab and place a library. That sort of thing. We remove the existing wizard space frame and replace it with a new frame. When we do that the old frames go in a box, that for some reason the staff have taken to calling ‘the burn box’. Only Merlin knows why.” He shook his head.

“They go in the box? Then what happens to them?” Harry asked, an idea starting to form.

“Nothing. I suppose one day we might get around to burning them, but yet.”

“Do you sell them?”

“Sell them? Why on earth would we do that? We’d have to sort them, make sure they were empty, dispose of any contents and clean them. No, I doubt we’ll ever try to sell them.”

“Would you sell the whole box? As is?” Harry asked. “It’s only the start of May and I’m not eighteen until July, if you sold me the whole box, I could sort them, empty them, maybe sell them on, or back to you to have as a cheaper option.” That was a slightly distorted version of the truth, he **_had_** been eighteen, and that may have changed, but he didn’t need to tell people, just yet.

Albert blinked at Harry and a smile began. “You got a trunk from Carson, right? How big?”

“Uh… the largest compartment is one hundred and eighty square feet. Why?” Harry answered.

“I can’t sell you the box, it belongs to the business, but I can sell you the scrap contents. You’d have to provide your own container, though.”

“Ooh, I get it.” Harry grinned and nodded.

“Yeah, I thought you might.” Albert grinned back at him.

“So, how much for the scrap in the box?” Harry asked.

“Hmm… How does… All you can carry for κ1? Yeah, how does that sound?”

“κ1? One **_single_** κnut? Are you kidding? You’re short-sheeting yourself, sir.” Harry protested.

“No, lad, I’m not, I’m selling rubbish that should be burnt. I have to justify every transaction to the accountant and let me tell you, he’s not going to be impressed that I charged you for rubbish.” Albert corrected.

“Oh, okay. Um… It’s all timber, yeah? Tell him, it would make fine kindling.” Harry offered.

“Kindling? Kindling… sold for kindling. Yes, that could work. Alright. Let’s see how much we can get into your trunk before we close this deal.”

“Sure.” Harry reached into his satchel and pulled out his shrunken trunk, stood it up and enlarged it. He turned the lock and opened the largest compartment. “Here it is.”

Albert nodded and stood, he crossed to the ‘burn box’ and picked it up. Instead of joining Harry inside the trunk, he stopped at its entrance.

“The burn box is an expanded capacity box, much the same as your trunk, and like I explained earlier, you can't put an expanded space inside an expanded space. I’ve no idea how many frames are in here, lad, so let’s start slow. How are you at conjuring?”

“Sir?” Harry frowned.

“You should have some shelves to keep the frames on, so you know what you’ve sorted and what you’ve still got to go. Then there’s any contents.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I’m okay at conjuring, but why conjure when I can transfigure? If I had some twigs or branches, I could permanently transfigure them into shelves.” Harry answered.

“That would work. You’ve a muggle brain, kid, don’t lose it. Wizard’s aren’t the most logical of people. Right, I’ll empty the box, you stack the frames against that wall, stand them on end and pack them as tight as you can. You can sort them later and shelve as you sort.”

The next half hour was filled with boxes and floating them into place. Row after row after row. They ended up filling one end of the largest compartment, the boxes stacked over five-foot-high and nearly three-foot-deep.

“Well, lad, there’s a lot more than I expected.”

“Yeah…” Harry huffed. “I stopped counting at a thousand. And that was in just the first minute or two. How long have you been collecting the used frames?”

“Oh, they’re not all used frames, some of them are apprentice frames.”

“Are they safe? How do I tell the difference? How do I enlarge them? Open them? Use them? CLose them?” Harry fired at Albert.

“Ah. Most apprentice frames have no maker’s mark on them. Once they’ve reached the point where we deem their work safe for sale, we mark them with an ‘A’ for apprentice made, alongside their maker’s mark. See here?” Albert picked up a frame and the six-by-three-by-one-inch box looked tiny in his big hands. He pointed to a series of letters burnt into the wood. “We burn them on, rather than carving them in, as once the rune sequence is complete, we can’t alter the original dimensions of the frame and carving letters would be removing part of that, but burning doesn’t for some reason. Something to do with not removing any mass? I’m not sure, runes were never my thing, I'm just the business manager. Anyway, any frame with a burn mark has passed safety inspections and is fine to use. You place it against a solid surface, like this, and press this rune, here, and the frame will enlarge. Then this rune, here, will activate the charms and the space will be connected to the frame, again. Just tap the runes again, reverse order, to deactivate and shrink the frames, when you’ve finished with them.”

“Can I put two frames back to back?” Harry asked.

Albert frowned. “I can’t see why not, but it’s not something I’ve tried, so I’m not sure. Try it, at worst you lose two frames, at best it works. A warning lad. When we deactivate the frames, anything inside them is frozen in a type of stasis. So, you might find pets, owls, plants, food, potions, even fires might still be lit.”

“Cool…” Harry breathed.

“It is, but be careful, okay? The structure of each space is safe, as is the atmosphere inside them, but we’ve no idea of their contents.”

“Right.” Harry nodded soberly. “Detection charms before entering.”

“Yep.” Albert lead Harry out of the trunk and back into the office. “Right, lad. κ1, if you please? Thank you.” He said after Harry handed over the requested coin and accepted the corresponding receipt. “One last thing, lad. I doubt anyone would have told you, but changing your name magically holds over into the muggle world.”

“Really?” Harry’s jaw dropped a little. “How do I do that?”

“There’s a number of ways. Most are done with a simple oath. Something along the lines of you swear on your life and magic that form that moment onwards, you will be known as, add whatever name you choose, and seal it with magic. You have been taught that, yes? Also? If you were to get someone to blood adopt you, that would change your magical signature and together with a name change oath, you would be a completely different person. Unfortunately, having a muggle as a guardian still means that you can’t do it without their consent.”

“So, wait until I’m eighteen, then?”

“That’d be best.” Albert nodded. “I’m sure you’ve got a few friends that you are really close to, maybe you could ask one of them to adopt you as a brother, it’s not as difficult and doesn’t impact on your adopter’s family’s inheritances. It’s more like that person is individually adopting you as their personal sibling, not the family as a whole adopting you as a member of the family, which would impact on inheritances. Also... don't drop your studies, you can always sit the exams when the Ministry hold open OWL and NEWT exams in August. And there's no limit on when you have to do them by. Eighteen or eighty, makes no difference.”

“Oh…” Harry whistled silently.

“Something to think about, lad. What else do you need, today?”

“I was going to get a tent. My cousin’s been talking about hiking in the lake district. It would get me away from Uncle for a few weeks and Dud’s might be a muggle, but he’s in-the-know, so a wizarding tent would give plenty of space. Maybe some furniture to go in it and some groceries. I’m a good cook, if I’ve got supplies.” Harry answered.

“Not a bad idea. Go talk to Wallace at Expedition and Extras. Tell him Carson and I sent you and tell him your plan.” Albert paused. “No. Hold on.” He pulled a sheet of parchment towards him and scribbled for a few minutes. “Give him that and tell him what else you need, he’ll point you in the right direction.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“No need to thank me, lad, just pay it forward, one day. Help someone else that needs it. That’s thanks enough for most of us. Now, off you go, get some lunch first, though, I can hear your stomach begging.”

Harry laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I think that might be a good idea. Thanks.” He stood and with a quiet smile, left the office and the shop. He wandered back to the cauldron and ordered a bowl of stew and slice of bread, before heading back out into the alley.

It took Harry a few minutes to find Expedition and Extras, for some reason he was looking for a small storefront and they had quite a large one. He’d looked passed it a number of times, before he heard a staff member welcome someone to the shop. He paused and turned in that direction, to be confronted with large windows filled with travel gear.

“Hello.” A young wizard, somewhere in his twenties, approached him. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Yes, I was told to speak to Wallace. Carson from ‘Bags and Boxes’ and Albert from ‘Add a Room or Two’ sent me.” Harry replied.

“Ah. And may I ask for a name?” The way he asked made Harry wonder whether he expected Harry to answer ‘no’.

“Ewan will do.” Harry did answer, but with the name he’d given the goblins.

“Certainly… Ewan. If you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’ll let Wallace know.” The other wizard nodded and left Harry to wander the store.

In less time than Harry expected, he was joined by another older wizard, this one about the same age as Albert and Carson.

“Ewan, is it?” He asked as he reached Harry.

“Ewan will do for now, yes.” Harry nodded.

“Ah, Albert told you how to change your name, then? Good, good. Why has he sent you to me?”

Harry didn’t answer, he just handed over the letter that Albert had written and waited patiently for Wallace to read it and hand it back.

“Thank you.” Harry said as he tucked the letter back into his pocket.

“That makes things quite clear. What are you after in a tent? Do you know?” Wallace asked.

“Not really. I have a few ideas, but they’re fairly flexible.”

“Tell me.” Wallace conjured up a notebook and pencil.

“I want a central living space with two bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen with laundry.” Harry shrugged. “I’m not too fussed about layout.”

“And size?”

“I’d like to have standard double beds in the bedrooms. The rest…? Neh, no idea.”

“Albert mentioned that finances are a bit tight. As a new tent, this could set you back about ʛ1000, but if you are prepared to deal with a second-hand one? Could be as little as ʛ50, depending on stock.” Wallace explained. “I’ve quite a few second-hand tents, right now, so you could pick whichever you want.”

“Can I have a look at them?” Harry didn’t know what constituted a good tent and what didn’t.

“Sure, come on back.” Wallace lead him to along a narrow hallway that opened into a room that was about twenty-foot square, with one wall lined with shelves that held small boxes. Each box was roughly six inches wide, eight inches tall and the same in length.

“Each box holds a single tent. All the tents I make have a shrinking feature as well auto-erect features, if you want pack them down, but you have to empty them to do that. It’s easier to display them like this, also means we can leave display furniture in them.” He pointed a smaller shelving unit. “These are my second-hand tents. Shall we take a look?”

“Sure.” Harry agreed.

“Excellent. Let’s see. Two bedrooms…”

Wallace only had three tents with two bedrooms and Harry didn’t like any of them, so Wallace started to show him tents with three bedrooms. The fourth tent of this size was the one that Harry chose. What he ended up with was a basic three-bedroom tent with two bathrooms, a kitchen with laundry and a reasonably large living space. Two bedrooms and a bathroom to the left and the other bedroom, bathroom and kitchen to the right.

After paying for his tent, with yet more Gringotts’ draughts, Harry listened Wallace as he suggested that Harry visit Dovetail’s Furniture for second-hand bedframes and a sofa or two, but to go to Matilda’s Soft Furnishings for new mattresses, pillows and linens. Then he suggested The Kitchen Pantry for groceries.

Harry stood across the Alley from Dovetail’s, he knew that he was running out of time. He’d been using glamours for a number of hours by now and he was beginning to feel it. He estimated that he had less than an hour before he had to drop them, or take the risk of them falling while he was still in public. And he still had three shops left to visit.

He cast a quick notice-me-not over himself and dropped his glamours, for one minute he stood there, wriggling his shoulders and swinging his arms, in an attempt to ease the tension fall from his shoulders. After that minute he replaced his glamours, but not the same ones. This time he looked more like Sirius with Remus’ hair and his own eyes, with an age based around the late twenties to early thirties. Once in place, he entered the shop.

“Good afternoon, sir. My name is Anne, how can I help you?” A young witch introduced herself.

“I’ve been tasked with setting up a tent for a pair of muggle-raised teenagers. I need two bedroom suites, minus mattresses. A sofa and two armchairs. I’ve a limited budget and would prefer second-hand.” Harry wanted to give the impression of an Uncle or family friend, shopping for boys still at school.

“That we can do. If you’ll follow me, I can show you a number of options. Do you have a timber in mind? And what size beds?” Anne asked.

“A light wood maybe whitewashed or painted, simple lines, nothing elaborate. And double beds by preferrence.”

“Sure, just a moment.” Anne pulled open a shallow draw and Harry saw that it held many small boxes containing shrunken bedsteads and matching bedside drawers.

“Do you have something with wardrobes and tallboys?” He asked. “The tent could be in use for months. There’s talk of hiking across mountains.” He shook his head as though unimpressed.

“Of course.” The first drawer was closed and a second opened.

“That’s more like it.” Harry hummed. “That one and that one, please.”

“Certainly.” Anne plucked out the two boxes and closed the drawer. “Sofas, you said? With matching armchairs?”

“It's unimportant if they match, we're talking about teens, they don't care. The budget is the deciding factor.”

Another drawer was opened, and Harry studied the contents.

“That sofa, that armchair and that leather loveseat.” He said, pointing to the three items.

“Sure.” The three were removed and lids placed on all five boxes.

“ʛ5 for each bedroom suite, ʛ3 for the sofa, ʛ2 and §10 for the leather loveseat and ʛ1 and §5 for the armchair. At total of ʛ16 and §15, sir.”

He handed over two ʛ10 draughts and accepted his change, before gently placing each box in his satchel.

“Thank you.” He nodded politely to the girl and left the store. Three doors down he found Matilda’s and entered.

“Afternoon.” The elderly witch seated by the counter said.

“Ma’am. I’m furnishing a tent for a pair of teenagers and already have bed-frames, I need mattresses and other linens. I have a limited budget, but would prefer new mattresses and pillows, the rest isn’t as important.”

“Well then, let’s get you sorted. What size beds?”

“Double.”

“Over here, then. These here are charmed to provide support as needed. For a double bed, mattress-only, you’re looking at ʛ15 each. For pillows there are two options, ʛ3 and come in soft or medium or firm, or ʛ5 and have auto-support charms like the mattresses.”

“Two mattresses, four of the auto-charm pillows. Please.” He added the last word with a nod when the witch indicated to shrunken mattresses.

“Of course. Linens?”

“Blues. Light blue for one and dark blue for the other. For each? Two sets of sheets. Two blankets, one cotton, one wool. One feather doona and a cover to match the sheets. For each bathroom. Four towels, two bathmats, four washers, two handtowels. For the kitchen. Two dishcloths, four tea-towels. For the living room, do you have floor rugs?” Harry recited the list that Aunt Petunia insisted that each bedroom or bathroom should have.

“We do. Let me show where they are, and you can flick through them while I fetch your linens.” She led him over to a table with a pile of napkin sized mats and left him to look through them.

By the time she returned, he’d chosen a large rectangular mat in dark chocolate with blue circles that overlapped in places, one that wouldn’t clash too badly with the other furniture.

“Nice choice.” The witch acknowledged. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No today.” Harry gave her a smile.

“As you say. With this rug, your total comes to ʛ57 and §12, sir.”

Harry nodded and pulled out a ʛ100 draught and accepted the change and, yet again, placed a shrunken box in his satchel.

One shop left.

The Kitchen Pantry was bright and cheerful, with trays of fruits and vegetable along one wall and shelves of non-perishable groceries on another. The rear wall held a set of shelves with plates and bowls holding ready-made meals.

“Afternoon, sir.” A middle-aged witch approached him. “Can I help you?”

“Please. I’ve been asked to outfit a tent for two teenagers to go hiking. One’s quite good at cooking, but the other…? Not so good. I need a mix of ready-made meals and pantry supplies.” Harry replied.

“We have a number of different household pantries. For bachelors, for spinsters, newlyweds, young families, older families and mature couples. In addition, we have a separate section of ready-made meal pantries.” The witch explained.

“Ah, let’s start with a basic household pantry for a couple, mature aged.” Harry blinked at the chart she handed him.

“Just select five items from each section, if you want more than one of any one item, write a number in the box. As you mark items off, our back room will pack them for you.” She left him to mark boxes and went off to tend to another customer.

When he finished, he held up the clipboard and she reappeared at his side.

“Finished?” She asked.

“Only the household pantry.” Harry answered.

“Oh, yes, you did say you wanted a ready-made meal pantry, too, didn’t you? One moment.” She flicked her wand and a second clipboard appeared. “It depends on the type and size of pantry, as to the cost. One meal a day for seven days is ʛ2. Three meals for seven days is ʛ5. One meal for a month, thirty days that is, is ʛ8 and §10. Three meals is ʛ21. A snack pantry for seven days is §15. For thirty days is ʛ3 and §10. We also have a few meat pantries. One pound of meat for ʛ1, two for ʛ1 and §15 and five for ʛ4, §10. Anything over that is a bulk order and we do them separately.”

“Ah…” Harry’s head reeled at the options. Had these been available when he, Hermione and Ron had gone camping? “Three meals for thirty days, a thirty-day snack pantry and five pounds of meat. A pound each of chicken, beef, lamb, pork and sausages, please.”

“Excellent choices, sir. Will you be wanting a ready-made meal stasis cupboard? Or a pantry cupboard? They’re both ʛ5, it’s fully refundable upon return, though.”

“Hmm… better be safe. One for each.” Harry nodded.

“I’ll get a box ready for you. Have a seat. Oh, the cost? Let’s see… uh… ʛ59 and §3, sir.”

Harry sighed and drew out yet more ʛ10 draughts, this would leave him with only three, until he broke down another ʛ100 draught and he’d prefer to avoid that.

The witch returned and placed a small box on the counter beside him, inside were three shrunken cupboards.

“This is the household pantry. Yes, it’s shrunk, once you remove it from the box, you have thirty seconds to position it where you want it before it unshrinks.” She pointed to the cupboard with solid timber doors. “And this is the ready-made pantry. Same as far as unshrinking goes.” She pointed to a cupboard with glass fronted doors. “And this is the snack pantry.” This time she pointed at a set of drawers. “Again, same for shrinking. And here’s your change, sir.” She handed him a dozen or so coins.

“Thank you.” He accepted the coins and dropped them into this coin pouch, gathered up the box and placed it in this satchel. There couldn’t be much space left, thankfully he had no more shopping to do.

He left the shop and headed back to the Cauldron. As he passed through, he decided to get a carton of butterbeers. It had been months since he’d had one and figured that he’d earned it, offing old Snakeface.


	6. Chapter 6

_He left the shop and headed back to the Cauldron. As he passed through, he decided to get a carton of butterbeers. It had been months since he’d had one and figured that he’d earned it, offing old Snakeface._

Once outside the Cauldron, Harry apparated away. A bare second later, trees of the Forest of Dean, surrounded him. He stood in a familiar little hollow. It was only a few weeks ago that the Weasley’s tent had been set up here.

Or at least, in his memory, it was only a few weeks ago. By the calendar it would be almost eight years before that was due to happen.

Harry shuddered and forced it from his mind, he refused to think about the war, just yet. It was still too painful, and he had things that had to happen.

The first thing he did was put up his protections. Shields, wards, notice-me-nots and repelling charms were laid about the hollow before Harry was prepared to drop his glamours. Letting them fall was like letting a weight fall from his shoulders. His magic may have responded as it did before he went through the veil, but his body was clearly that of a child and had little stamina.

He was exhausted.

And his day wasn’t finished. He pulled his satchel open and summoned out the tent-in-a-box, placing it where Hermione had placed theirs, and let it enlarge. Inside the tent, he pulled the furniture boxes out and set them down, taking one with a bedroom suite, into the first bedroom to the left. A swish and flick of his wand and the pieces were placed, another flick and the shrinking charms were dismissed. A dig into the box of linen, pulled out a mattress and tossed it onto the bedframe, another flick and the mattress snapped to full size. More linen was tossed at the bed and more flicks of his wand directed it, within seconds the bed was made and ready for use.

Back in the main room, Harry quickly placed and unshrunk the other furniture, first the three loungeroom chairs, then the bedroom suite in the opposite bedroom. He had no idea why he’d put it up, but he was less likely to trip over a full-sized double bed, than a shrunken one. The only reason he’d bought it was his cover story, he couldn’t see it being used any time soon. But better to be ready.

Expect the Unexpected and Take Advantage of it.

The Marauders’ motto.

Into the kitchen and placing the three pantries, before fetching himself a plate of sandwiches, he was so tired that he barely finished them before stumbling in the direction of the first bedroom and falling into the bed, asleep before he’d even met the mattress.

Morning came and Harry rolled from the bed, surprised that he’d slept so well. Not having nightmares was a new thing. He grimaced at his clothes and summoned his satchel.

A minute later he had two changes of clothes spread out on his bed. Clothes that were sized to fit an adult Harry, not child-sized Harry. And of course, they wouldn’t shrink well, muggle stuff rarely did, a size or two, sure, but not to shrink by nearly half. No, he’d be luck for them to last an hour, before starting to disintegrate.

But magic was a wonderful thing. A quick [_scourgify_](cleaning%20charm) and his clothes were as clean as if they’d been freshly laundered.

He paused in the main room and frowning, redirected his feet from the kitchen to outside. He only had to walk a few yards to find a fallen tree, old and dried, ready to use. It took him a few moments to focus on what he wanted but when he cast the transfiguration charm, the tree trunk lifted into the air and split in half before beginning to melt into two different shapes.

As Harry re-entered the tent, a picnic-styled table and bench floated along behind him. He pointed his wand where he wanted them and continued his way to the kitchen. There, he made himself a pot of tea and brought it out to the table. Another summoning and he had the goblins’ ID tests in front of him, he read the attached information and nodded to himself. Retrieving the crystal shard and phial from a bag tied to a parchment scroll, Harry set about following those directions. He finished his tea and a bowl of porridge before pouring a fresh mug of tea.

Waiting the stated five minutes wasn’t easy, but Harry had learned that sometimes, you just had to wait, there were no other options. When the time was up, he reached for the parchment, turning it over so her could read what was written.

“Holy crap. You have **_got_** to be shitting me?” He whispered in shock.

He read the parchment again. No, it was still the same.

“How is that possible?” He dropped the parchment on the table, the letters constantly drawing his attention.

**_Harold James Potter_ **

_31 July 1980 – 31 October 1981_

_Mother – **Lilium Jonquil Potter** nee Evans (30 January 1960 – 31 October 1981)_

_Father – **James Fleamont Potter** (27 March 1960 – 31 October 1981)_

_Godfather – **Sirius Orion Black** (3 November 1969 – 31 October 1981)_

_Godmother – **Alice Laura Longbottom** (28 April 1960 –)_

“What the hell do I do now?” Harry huffed.

He sat quietly for a few minutes.

“Right, leave it to set in and keep busy in the meantime.” Harry knew that was how his mind worked. If his life wasn’t actively being threatened, he needed time to work through things. Needed time to absorb information.

He retrieved his trunk and headed for the third bedroom, before stopping and sighing. Back outside and two more fallen trees were attacked, this time they became shelves and were sent into the third room. Opening his trunk, he summoned out two wizard space frames, studying them, he decided that they still looked like shallow boxes without lids.

He placed them back-to-back and pressed the rune to unshrink them, followed by the activation rune. A crackle of magic was initially created by the rune, but then absorbed by the trunk, before the frame became active.

“Let’s see what we have here.” Harry cast a series of detection charms, that all returned negative for any dangerous items. He stuck his head through the frame and was greeted be a large empty space.

He debated for a moment but remembered that both Carson and Albert had stated that you couldn’t put a wizard space inside a wizard space, or an expanded space inside an expanded space. He also remembered Mr Weasley saying that wizard tents are made in a different way, they tend distort space rather than expand or create it. Something to do with the runes used and where they were placed? Mr Weasley had implied that it was a craft secret, known only to a few and jealously guarded by them. But the upshot of that was that tents followed their own rules and both wizard spaces and expanded spaces could be safely used inside tents.

And for the next three days, that was all he did. He set frames up and cast detection charms, inspected and tagged frames. Those that failed, and there were a few, mostly apprentice frames, but some had dangerous contents. They were reverted to their shrunken size, pulled apart and burnt, of an evening.

But day four saw that change. The morning was the same as those before it, but a late lunch saw his repeatedly _scourgified_ jeans tear, right across the waist. Leaving him wearing a waist band with only a fly connected to it.

“Dammit.” He grumbled. He _Accio_ -ed a washer from the second bathroom and transfigured it into a pair of shorts.

A few minutes to tidy up and Harry was thinking about where to go to get some clothes. The only places he could think of, off the top of his head, were the second-hand shops and opportunity shops in the Surrey area.

“Surrey, it is.” He sighed as he left the tent. He briefly checked his protections and once sure that they would hold, he apparated to a hidden corner of a car park, in Guildford and glamoured himself to look eighteen, again.

Down the street and around the corner, was the first of three shops that he planned to visit. In the first shop, he found a few shirts and a pair of shorts.

“They’re a bit small for you, aren’t they?” An elderly woman asked.

“My cousin and I are very different sizes, ma'am.” Harry answered. “And guess who only packed two changes of clothes to go travelling with?”

“Ah. How old is he?”

“About this tall.” Harry answered by holding a hand at the correct height.

“About ten?”

“Something like that. I don’t take a lot of notice of my cousin, he’s a bit obnoxious. Hence the second-hand stuff.” Harry grinned.

“I see. Shirts, shorts, jeans, pyjamas? What about shoes? Underwear? Socks?”

“My Uncle would never let him have second-hand underwear… or socks. But the rest, yeah, sure.”

“Right, then. Let’s annoy him.” She bustled around the store, adding something from here and a shirt from there. “Here we go.” There was a not-so-small pile of things waiting on the counter. So much for having to visit three shops. “Six T-shirts, two button downs, four pair of shorts, two pair of jeans, two pair of trainers, two pair of pyjamas. Oh, and one pair of swim shorts.” She counted them off. “£12.50. How’s that sound?”

“Better get another pair of shorts. It’s a long way from Leith Hill to Owslebury.” Harry huffed.

“Ooh, I don’t envy you, lad. I can’t see you getting through that in less than three days.”

“I could do it in two, I think, but my cousin? I’m thinking, more like four or five. He really doesn’t like being away from his TV.”

“Sounds like someone’s spoilt.” She said.

“Yep. Thanks.” He handed over his money and lifted the bag from the counter. “I better get at move on. Oh, where can I get underwear and socks?”

“The Friary is your best bet, it’s got Hollister’s and Primark.”

“Uncle prefers Hollister’s.” Harry sighed.

“Might be a bit expensive for a ten-year-old, but as long as they’re paying…?” The old woman tilted her head in question.

“Yep.” Harry huffed. “While the rest of us have to make do with Sainsbury’s.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” She sighed. “Well, good luck, dear.” She turned to serve the next customer and Harry left the shop.

As he walked down the street towards the Friary shopping mall, Harry discreetly shrunk the Oxfam bag and tucked it into an inner pocket of his rucksack. In the few minutes that it took to walk to the mall, Harry decided he needed to see Aunt Petunia. Not to talk to, just to see her. Once he’d seen she was fine, he could cross her off his ‘ever think about again’ list. It took him half an hour to get two pack of socks and the same of underwear, the shops were busy with parents getting ready for the summer.

Leaving the shopping area of the mall, he found a quiet out of the way spot and apparated to the underpass on Magnolia Drive and after a short debate with himself, he cast a notice-me-not on himself and began the short walk to the park and possibly on towards Privet Drive. By the time Harry reached the park it was filled with children just having finished school for the day and one of those children had a familiar pair of ears.

“Dudley.” Harry whispered to himself before frowning.

Dudley wasn’t nearly as rotund as Harry remembered him being and he was far more active, playing tag with another boy and two small girls.

“Huh, who’d have thought it? Dudikins can run without wobbling.” The memory of running across this park, side-by-side with Dudley and seeing the rolls of fat bouncing, were enough to make Harry glad he had been underfed by the Dursley's.

He sat himself down under a tree and watched, trying to reconcile his memories with what was in front of him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working. No matter how he tried, Harry couldn’t see the active sandy-haired boy running around the park, as the cousin he grew up with. And that was probably a good thing. As he watched, Petunia called and a laughing Dudley ran to meet her, she hugged him and spoke quietly to his friends before leading him from the park. Within the next few minutes, other parents appeared, and more children began to leave.

It took nearly twenty minutes, but eventually Harry was the only person left in the park. He stood in preparation to apparate, when a low, mournful howl echoed across the empty park. He looked around, trying to find the culprit.

There.

Under the hedge on the far side of the park was a shaggy black mass. It stood and Harry caught his breath, he knew that shaggy coat. His eyes narrowed and his lips twisted. If they’d seen it, Ron would have been grimacing and Hermione would have shuddered. That look was what Harry wore when he was planning something that they wouldn’t like.

He threw a stupefy across the park, as he began to run, but his aim was just fractionally off, he got the dog with a glancing hit to the tail. The dog tumbled over its own feet, giving Harry time to fire off a second stupefy as it tried to climb to its feet. This time he hit the dog cleanly, right on the shoulder.

Harry stood over the prone form of a very familiar Grimm-like dog and shook his head. He flicked a wand and once the dog was in the air, he reached out and took hold of a skinny leg. He could feel the dirt and gunge clinging to the dog’s coat. That would have to be dealt with.

Harry apparated back the forest and dropped his glamours, as approached his tent but paused as he saw a clump of dried mud fall from the still floating dog.

“Time for a bath.” Harry’s grin turned vicious.

Down to the creek, he went, the dog floating along behind him. Reaching the creek, he lowered his free hand to his leg and tapped his fingers against his hidden wand holster and the wand leapt into his hand. He’d never used two wands at once, but he was game to give it a try.

[“ _Media calidus aguamenti_](warm%20water).” He chanted, softly, and warm water poured in a gentle stream from his wand. He twisted the other wand and the dog rotated in the stream of water. Once the dog was completely wet. He dismissed the water and conjured a bottle of pet shampoo and a heavy bristled dog brush. The shampoo was poured over the dog and the bottle banished, while the brush got to work scrubbing through the rough coat. In seconds, the foam that covered the dog went from white to a murky muddy brown and Harry realised that he’d have to rinse and redo this a few times.

Ten minutes it took, to have clean water sloughing off the dog. Once certain the mutt was clean, Harry cast a drying charm at him and started to laugh. The blasted idiot looked like a poodle with his hair all fluffed up from the charm. That lasted all the way back to the tent, inside he debated with himself, but as the dog was still out for the count, he figured he’d push on. There was no way in hell he was letting the mutt sleep in one of his beds until he was completely clean and so far…? Only the dog was clean.

Into the second bathroom and Harry focused on the animal in front of him, before casting the charm that would revert the dog back into his human form. Then it was a debate as to whether or not the human’s clothing should be banished. But Harry figured that the man might have things in the pockets, that he considered important, so he just used a switching spell and left the filthy garments on the bathroom floor. They could be dealt with, later. He levitated the naked man into the tub and repeated the process from earlier.

Maybe it was the fact that his dog form was clean, that meant the human form wasn’t as filthy as Harry expected. Regardless it only took two rinses to have the water run clear. Another drying charm and Harry headed for the second bedroom, a still unconscious godfather floating along behind him. He looked at the bed and at his godfather and turned towards the door.

“ _Accio_ adult pyjamas.” He said and in the time it took to count to three, he had the pair of pyjamas that Hermione had placed in his rucksack, in his hands. Another switching spell and his godfather was no longer naked. Harry lowered the man to the bed and left him there, if he was still out from a pair of underpowered stupefies, he obviously needed the sleep.

The sight of his godfather wearing the pyjamas that Hermione had got for Harry, prompted Harry to remember the message she’d given him, just seconds before he entered the veil. He crossed the tent to his room and hunted up the box of cards. He settled on the sofa and studied the box.

He cautiously lifted the lid and saw a folded sheet of muggle paper, pristine white with sharp blue lines. He unfolded the paper and read her letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I’m sorry, so sorry, that you have to do this alone. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more._

_I’ve done the best that I can to get you some resources and thankfully the goblins were able to help._

_Mr Malfoy said that I could give you five things, as long as they had no wizarding magic in or on them. Nothing was said about goblin magic, Harry._

_When the goblins came to certify your Will, I went back with them and asked for their help. Gringotts’ draughts are almost the same as bank notes, just with magic applied. A_ _draught can be broken down into coins, you simply need to put your finger on the amount and pulse your magic through your finger into the draught._

_The vault you left to me wasn’t as ʛalleon rich as the ones you left to the Weasley’s and little Teddy, but it was still far more than I’m comfortable with. I talked to my account manager, Snapblade, and he agreed to help, for a cost. The vault had ʛ28,000 roughly, I had ʛ11,600 converted into one hundred and six ʛ100 draughts and one ʛ1000 draught. Then Snapblade transfigured the ʛ100 draughts into replicas of the playing cards that I had provided. The ʛ1000 draught was transfigured into this sheet of paper and no, Harry, I won’t tell you how to reverse it, not yet. You need to read the whole letter before acting._

_He did something similar with the marbles but instead of them being draughts, they are gems and pieces of jewellery. Some of which, belonged to your mother. The smaller solid colour marbles are single gems of similar size. The multi-coloured marbles are combinations of smaller gems, or pieces of jewellery. The larger marble is made up of a diamond, an emerald, your parents’ wedding rings and your mother’s engagement ring._

_And because these were transfigured using goblin magic and not wizarding magic, they won’t register on any tests that the Wizengamot may do._

_Now, how to reverse them?_

_They all have a password and yes, it is the same password for all of them. Just saying the password won’t break the transfiguration, though, you have to hold an item or items in your hand and pulse your magic into them at the same time. Items not in contact with your skin, won’t revert. I say ‘your’ and mean ‘you’, Harry, no one else. Snapblade tied them to your magical signature._

_The cards and this letter will revert into draughts, but the box will stay as a box._

_For the marbles, it is slightly different, you need open the bag and hold it in your cupped hands and speak into the opening, at the same time as pulsing you magic into the bag. This will revert the bag to a velvet lined jewellery bag and the marbles to their original forms._

_It’s the best I could do, Harry, I’m sorry I couldn’t do more._

_I love you,_

_Hermione._

_P.S. The password is my password, the thing that I said to you every single day. It's three words and the letters are OHH. I said it just as much to Ron, but for him the letters would be OHR._

A noise from the second bedroom told Harry that Sirius was awake.


	7. Chapter 7

**_It’s the best I could do, Harry, I’m sorry I couldn’t do more._ **

**_I love you,_ **

**_Hermione._ **

_A noise from the second bedroom told Harry that Sirius was awake._

Harry watched silently as Sirius stumbled from the bedroom, across the main room and fell onto the sofa beside Harry.

“Awake?” Harry asked, as his godfather looked far more asleep than awake.

“Mphm…” Sirius mumbled unintelligibly.

“Hmm…” Harry nodded, got to his feet and disappeared into the kitchen, seconds later he reappeared with soup in an oversized mug and a slice of buttered crusty bread. “Here, eat.”

Sirius said nothing, or really, he didn’t **_try_** to say anything, just accepted the mug and the bread and began to eat and drink.

Laying down the empty mug he sighed.

“Go bad to bed, Siri.” Harry ordered and watched in amusement as his godfather climbed to his feet, kissed Harry on the top of the head and wandered off to bed.

Harry, however, climbed to his feet and wandered off to sort out a few more wizard space frames. An hour later he’d sorted and added tags to another dozen frames and decided to have something to eat and call it quits for the day.

He went to the kitchen and got himself a ready-made meal of shepherd’s pie, took it to the table and returned to the kitchen for a pot of hot chocolate, but when he returned, Sirius was seated at the table and steadily munching his way through Harry's dinner. The bit that amused Harry, was that Sirius was still more asleep than awake. Harry poured out two mugs of chocolate and placed one in front of Sirius and the sleepy Animagus just reached out and picked it up, sipping at it in between mouthfuls of pie. Like earlier, when he finished eating, he lay down his fork and sighed.

“Bed, Siri.” Harry ordered again, and again the older man climbed to his feet and wandered off to bed.

Harry shook his head and went to fetch himself another plate of pie. This time, his meal was undisturbed and by the time he headed for his own bed, there was still no further sign of Sirius moving.

Breakfast the morning was a simple meal, Harry made scrambled eggs, with a side of bacon, for both he and Sirius, but the older man was still sleeping when Harry had sat down to eat. He wondered how long it would take the Animagus to follow the scent of food?

Not long, it appeared. Within minutes of Harry sitting down, a still three-quarters asleep Sirius stumbled out to the table and clumsily folded himself onto the bench beside Harry.

“M’ng, pp.” He grunted and Harry knew that was the equivalent of ‘morning, pup’, for those that didn’t speak Sirius-garble.

“Morning, Siri. Hungry?” Harry replied.

“Hnn…”

Harry tilted his head, that was not the usual agreement, but… it was close.

“Half a mo.” Harry fetched in the second plate of eggs and while Sirius made a slow but methodical effort to empty the plate, Harry made a fresh pot of tea.

By the time Sirius had finished the eggs and two mugs of tea, he was beginning to be capable of conscious thought, but he was still a bit fuzzy around the edges.

“Back to bed? Or are you staying awake, this time?” Harry asked.

Sirius just looked at him, something was nagging the Animagus but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“Bed.” He grunted.

“Well, off you go, then.” Harry jerked a thumb in the appropriate direction and Sirius nodded and headed back to heaven in navy blue, otherwise known as the second bed.

Harry shook his head and headed for the trunk room.

Ten minutes later, there was a screech that had Harry spinning and sprinting for the second bedroom.

 ** _“Harry James Potter!_** What in the name of Merlin’s saggy ball sack is going **_on?”_** Sirius screamed.

Harry just leant against the doorframe and laughed at the look of indignation on his godfather’s face.

“A bit slow this morning are we, Siri?” He managed to ask between bouts of laughter.

“I’ll give you slow, you bloody little horror.” Sirius half snarled, half groaned. A few moments later he frowned. “Have you been taking one of the twins prank potions? You look a bit younger than I remember…”

“Yeah… about that…” Harry grimaced.

“What did you do?”

“Erm… Why don’t we have another cuppa and I’ll catch you up?” Harry didn’t answer, he just went to fetch the tea. “Out here, Siri.”

“I don’t have any clothes, pup.” Sirius warned.

“Didn’t stop you from coming out and stealing my dinner last night. Come on. Let me explain and I’ll find you some clothes.” Harry wasn’t above ribbing _**or**_ bribing the older man.

Sirius huffed and shuffled out in the Gryffindor red pyjamas that had gold snitches flying about on them. He flopped down onto the sofa and glared at Harry.

“Explain. Now.” He demanded.

“Long version? Short version?”

“Short... to start with.”

“Right, the good and the bad. The DoM? You died, but Fudge saw Voldersnort, so he couldn’t deny it, anymore. Dumbledore finally told me about the prophecy and I still had to go back to Durzkaban, but hey, at least I got to destroy the Headmaster’s office, first. Sixth year? Dumbledore started giving me ‘private’ lessons, mostly pensieve lessons on the life and times of old Voldy. Kinda gross, really. He told me that the diary I destroyed, to save Ginny, was a Horcruxe and that Voldy made a heap of them, but he didn’t have an exact number. Then Dumbledore found one of Voldy's horcruxes and got cursed because he forgot to think. A few months later, he took me with him to get another one. Turns out it was a fake, your brother found it first and swapped it out. Got back to the school just in time for Draco to channel his father and let Greyback, Bella, Rodolphus and Rabastan into the school. Snape killed Dumbledore, because Draco started to grow a brain of his own, Snape takes Draco and runs away. Bill and Fleur got married and in the middle of the reception, Kingsley sent a patronus, Voldy had the Ministry. Hermione, Ron and I apparated away. We went to Grimmauld and found out about Regulus and the horcruxe he'd stolen. Kreacher and Dobby tracked Dung down, he’d taken it from Grimmauld, along with a shitload of other Black Family Heirlooms, we made him give back what he hadn't sold. We impersonated some Ministry workers, attacked Umbitch again, destroyed part of the Ministry and stole a Founder’s Heirloom. I’m declared an undesirable class one. And that was the beginning of the Great Horcruxe Hunting Camping trip. October comes, Ron throws a tantrum and runs home to mummy, leaving Hermione and I to fend for ourselves. Visit Godric’s Hollow on Christmas eve. Get attacked by Nagini hiding as Bathilda Bagshot, get my wand broken getting away.” Harry paused and poured himself a mug of tea.

“Someone knew where we were and sent a patronus to lead me to the sword of Gryffindor. Ron turns up, between us we kill the Horcruxe. I screw up and say Voldy’s name, but he’d put a taboo on it, and we got caught. Taken to Malfoy manor. Killed Wormtail or rather called in the life debt to free us and his nice shiny silver hand that Voldy gave him, killed him for betraying his master. Draco bought us enough time for Dobby to rescue us and for Bella to throw a knife at him, at least Dobby died a free elf. Work out there’s a Horcruxe in Gringotts, bust in, get the Horcruxe, steal a dragon and bust out. Voldy loses control and inadvertently shows me that the last Horcruxe is at Hogwarts. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade is on lockdown and we’re nearly caught, again. Dumbledore’s brother at the Hog’s Head, has been helping the students with food and gets us into the school. I confront Snape about Dumbledore and he does a runner. Sort of. Students are sent out to the Hog’s Head and those of us left, get ready to fight. But we still had to find and destroy the Horcruxe. Manage to do that and track Voldy to the boat house. He attacks Snape and sets Nagini on him and leaves. Snape gives me his memories, tells me to go to a pensieve. I head back to the headmaster’s office and use his pensieve. Dumbledore was cursed the summer after fifth year, he was dying. Made Snape promise to kill him. Mercy killing. Snape was never Voldy’s, his true loyalty was to mum. Even as late as last year his patronus was for her. He was always on our side. I had a Horcruxe in my scar and the only way to destroy it is to kill me. I give myself up to Voldy and he hits me with an AK. Meet Dumbledore in a ghostly version of King’s Cross and he says that now the Horcruxe is gone I have a choice. I can go ‘on’ and join my family or ‘back’ and finish off Voldy.”

Harry took a few more sips of his tea.

“I went back, duelled Voldy, he lost. But the deaths were high. Fred, Tonks, Remus, Mad-eye, Snape, to name just a few. Then Kingsley came. Thickness was minister and he was killed at Hogwarts, he’d been under the _imperius_ for the better part of a year. But when a minister dies in battle, the Ministry falls under Mordred’s Law. Kingsley explained, that until the warrant for me was resolved, the ministry couldn’t name a new minster. Plus, Mordred’s Law means that I had to be given a fair trial and to force that, the judges are placed under memory suppression charms. They would’t remember ever having heard my name before and had to judge me based solely on the evidence. I loose. I expected that, but still…”

Harry laid his mug down.

“I was given the choice of three sentences, under Mordred’s Law they only had three options. Life Imprisonment. Life in Exile. Death. I chose the veil. And here I am.” Harry sighed.

Sirius looked at him. “Bollocks.” Sirius breathed loudly.

“Yeah… pretty much say it all.” Harry shrugged.

“I think I need the longer version, pup.

“Really?” Harry whined.

“Yeah, I’m thinking you left a lot out, didn’t you?”

“Urgh. I don’t want to.”

“Suck it up, pup, and start talking.” Sirius said sternly.

“Hnn… You went into the veil and Remus held me back…” Harry started.

It took six and a half hours before Harry got to how Sirius ended up in a tent in the Forest of Dean.

“Oh, hell, Harry. That’s…” Sirius whined.

“Yeah…” Harry nodded.

“So, you came out of platform 9¾, huh? I came out of the Ministry phone-box.” Sirius said.

“Weird. Now, it’s your turn to spill. What happened to you?”

“You may not believe it, but the very first person I saw was Arthur Weasley.” Sirius snorted as Harry’s jaw fell, slightly. “I was going to call out to him, but he was carrying a very young Ginny. It spooked me. I apparated to the Cauldron, put up a glamour and bought a Prophet, saw the date and apparated away, blind. Word of warning? _**Try**_ not to do that too often, your subconscious controls where you go. I ended up in Godric’s Hollow and the vicar found me, before I realised where I was. He knew who I was, or rather... he thought he knew, he figured I was Sirius' brother, not actually Sirius. He told me what happened that night. Apparently, James and I were on dishes duty, due to some prank, we had to do them by hand, no magic. That was true, but we finished, and **_I_** left before Lily could come up with some other cruel and unusual punishment. Not so the Sirius from here. Voldy caught them without their wands, they were having a towel-snapping fight, their wands on the table, nearly six feet away. Both died.” Harry sidled over and leant against Sirius, offering as much comfort as his ten-year-old body could, Sirius slung an arm around his shoulders and kept going. “The wards must have alerted Dumbledore, he entered the cottage to hear You-Know-Who cast the Killing curse, twice. Then saw him enter the hall from your room. They duelled on the stairs and somehow Dumbledore got the upper wand. The vicar only saw the end result. Dumbledore floating a dead and decapitated dark lord down the stairs.”

“Whoa…”

“Yeah. That started this intensive period of investigation, it was all over the prophet, he said. Everyone accused of being a Death-Eater or a dark sympathiser was questioned under _veritaserum_ , everyone, regardless of their blood status. Caused an uproar at first, but only until the first of the Pureblood Death-Eaters were questioned and admitted they did it willingly, then suddenly everyone was all ‘ _veritaserum_ is good’. Idiots.”

“Hermione calls the wizarding world ‘sheeple’. It’s kind of apt.” Harry said. “So, me seeing Malfoy wandering the alley? He was cleared?”

“Yep, Bellatrix really did _imperius_ him and Narcissa, way back before they even left school, she planned to have him marry Narcissa and get control of the Black estate and hand it and Lucy over to You-Know-Who. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite happen that way. Grandfather survived whatever she had planned for him and cut her from the Family, deliberately attacking the Lord of your House, it's grounds for disownment. But at least she was caught before she got to the Longbottoms’ place. Frank and Alice are fine and not in St. Mungo's.”

“Neville has a family.” Harry whispered. “That’s great.”

“Yeah, sure.” Sirius nodded. “Great for him. Once the vicar had finished with me, I tried to get into the cottage, but the place was locked down, so I spent the next few nights in camped out in the garden, until I was almost caught by the Aurors. I shifted into padfoot and snuck away before they started scanning for intruders. After that, I stayed as Padfoot and where possible I kept to the muggle areas. I got picked up by the muggle dog catchers a few times, but I’d just wait until I was out of sight and shift back and apparate away. I’ve no idea how long it’s been since I arrived, it’s kind of hard to judge as Padfoot. Padfoot loves kids and every so often, I’d find myself in a park, like… when you found me. When did you find me?”

“Yesterday, Siri. Just yesterday.” Harry answered.

“Oh… Okay…” Sirius sat on the sofa and stared into space for some minutes, before he spoke again. “Harry?”

“Yes, Sirius…” Harry sighed.

“What’s next on your list?”

“I only had four things on my list. A wand. An ID. Money. And Somewhere to live.”

“And what have you sorted?” Sirius tilted his head.

“I haven’t got anything about ID yet.”

“And your resources?”

“I had roughly ʛ24,000… until last night when I read Hermione’s letter. Somehow she worked out a way to send some Gringotts’ draughts with me. ʛ11,600’s worth. And a bag of gems and jewellery, I have no idea of the value, but mum and dad’s wedding rings and mum’s engagement ring is in there, somewhere. I haven't sorted them out, yet.” Harry pointed at what velvet jewellery bag. “The tent, of course. And the pick of the bunch… eleven thousand one hundred and thirty-two second-hand wizard-space doorframes.”

“Excuse me?” Sirius blinked. “Where did you get them?” He frowned. “For that matter where did you get ʛ24,000?”

“Oh, didn’t I show you that? Hang on.” Harry grabbed his satchel and pulled out the notebook, opened it to the rear and pulled out a Gringotts’ document. “Here.” He handed it to Sirius.

“A Gringotts Exchange pouch application? Ah, identity not confirmed. Ooh… Is this…? Harry? This spell-chain is… Wow, pup, this is pretty impressive.” Sirius was _**very**_ impressed, he just wasn’t going to admit it.

“Thanks, Siri.” Harry grinned. “And the frames came from Diagon. I bought an expanded trunk and… well the wizard thought I was older and being kicked out by my muggle Uncle, he sent me to his brother and Albert sold me the box of frames, minus the box, for a κnut.”

“Oh, Add a Room?”

“Yep, that’s them.” It was Harry’s turn to frown. “Siri? Why didn’t you go to Dumbledore? When you arrived here, I mean.”

“Uh… Yeah…” Sirius grimaced. “That’s slightly complicated.”

“How?”

“Alright, way back when Prongs, Moony and I were at school, I had a falling out with my family, I told you about that, I ran away… to your dad’s place. About a week after I arrived, Monty, your grandad, came home one night, fuming mad, and Prongs and I snuck downstairs to listen in, we thought it might be something to do with the Blacks. It wasn’t. Monty told Mia about-”

“Who’s Mia?”

“Mia? Mia was your grandmother, Euphemia. Anyways, Monty told Mia that he and his partner, Moody had found a young girl, about six he said, she claimed that her father was mad at her because she’d been sick and when she got better the healers had told her father she was a squib. He took her to the Ministry and shoved her through a creepy old archway. Sound familiar? Monty and Moody took her to Dumbledore, and he used Legilimency on her, he said she was a dimension jumper and sent her straight to the Department of Mysteries. He cut Monty off every time Monty tried to find out what had happened to her. Oh, Monty was an Auror, by the way. Eventually Dumbledore got annoyed and told him that the problem had been dealt with. When Monty pushed, Dumbledore said that she died during testing with the Unspeakables. Monty was ordered to not ask again.”

Harry said nothing, he just frowned.

“Yeah. Then when you were about six months old, James and I found another girl, this one was about fifteen and heavily pregnant. We approached Dumbledore about her and before we could tell him more than how we’d found her and what she claimed, she was raped by Death-Eaters, taken to the Ministry and thrown through the veil, she was gone. The DoM took her. A week later James asked how she was doing and Dumbledore brushed him off. That pissed James off and he started asking questions at the Ministry. We got a visit from an Unspeakable who told us to drop our questions or we’d end up in the same condition as her. When James asked what that condition was, he was told ‘dead’.”

“Whoa… Cold.”

“We didn’t ask again. When you add that to Dumbledore being the Chief Warlock and making no attempt to get me a trial, when the likes of Bella get one…? No, I wasn’t going to him. What about you? Why didn’t you go to him?” Sirius wanted to know.

“Sirius, you know next to nothing about the crap that’s happened to me. And Dumbledore’s been involved in it all. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good man, wizard, whatever, but he’s not a good headmaster. First year, I was sent into the forbidden forest at night, to hunt something that was killing unicorns. Hello? First year. I couldn’t even cast a basic shield. Second year, a basilisk was slithering around the school. Did he shut the school? No? Did he call the Aurors? No. He left it to two second years to deal with. Third year? I love Moony, but he was a werewolf, in a school full of children. Not to mention the bloody dementors. Dumbledore was still Chief Warlock, he could have fronted the Wizengamot and challenged Fudge. Did he? No. Fourth year? The tri-wizard tournament. My name was entered. Did he try to find out who had done it? No. Did he try to get me out of it? No. Did they amend the challenges? No. I was told ‘you’re on your own, I can’t help you’, even though he knew that the other champions were getting help. Fifth year. Umbitch. He’s still Chief Warlock. Did he do anything? No. He’s the ICW’s Supreme Mugwump. Did he do anything? No. You go into the veil and we’re all injured, do we get medical attention? The others, yeah, sure. Me? No? What do I get? I get told that the alcoholic fraud up in the tower sprouted a prophecy, during a job interview no less, that states that I’m the only one that can kill Voldy. How long has he known? Since before I was born? Has he done anything about it? Other than let my parents die? No. Have I had any training? No. Has he got any plans, for me to get any training? No. Sixth year. He’s killed by his spy. Has he told anyone that he ordered Snape to do it? No. Has he told anyone why he believed Snape was his and not Voldy’s? No. Did he know when it was going to happen? Probably. Did he know I was watching? Yes. Did he know that I would think Snape murdered him? Probably. Did he expect that I would still trust Snape, just because he did? Yes. Did he know how Voldy was still alive? Yes. Did he tell anyone other than his spy? No.” Harry panted. “You see what I’m saying. The codger… I loved him as the closest I had to a grandfather, but to him I was just a weapon to point and release. Or at least that was the impression we ended up with. He never explained anything, and no one was allowed to question his decisions. Ever.”

“Oh, pup.”

“I died fighting Voldy, Sirius. I thought about going to Hogwarts, but I was scared that if I went to Dumbledore or if he knew that I’d already killed Voldy once, he’d expect me to do it again. Either that or he’d send me to Azkaban for murdering the bastard.”

“I’d like to say, ‘no, he wouldn’t do that’, but I’m not certain, I kind of think he might.” Sirius sighed.

“So how do we get IDs? It’s not like we can apparate into the Ministry and place forged papers. Gringotts demands blood tests before you can open a vault and I bought some of their tests. It says I’m Harry Potter and Harry Potter is dead. The two don’t match.” Harry ranted.

“…ooh…” Sirius gasped silently. “There’s one person that might be able to help… I mean he can, he has the ability, but whether he will or not is the question.”

“Who?”

“Mad-Eye Moody.”


	8. Chapter 8

_“So how do we get IDs? It’s not like we can apparate into the Ministry and place forged papers. Gringotts demands blood tests before you can open a vault and I bought some of their tests. It says I’m Harry Potter and Harry Potter is dead. The two don’t match.” Harry ranted._

_“…oh…” Sirius gasped silently. “There’s one person that might be able to help… I mean he can, he has the ability, but whether he will or not is the question.”_

_“Who?”_

_“Mad-Eye Moody.”_

“So… You think he’ll come?” Harry asked for the third time.

Sirius barked a laugh. “Assuming I used the right codes and he recognises them for what they were… He’ll be here.”

The two were sprawled on a blanket laid under the edge of the trees, near the statue of Peter Pan, in Kensington Gardens. Both were thinking of the message they’d owled to Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody the night before.

**_Hey Ram,_ **

**_I’ll be in London tomorrow week. Could do with some chips._ **

**_Pity I won’t be there sooner, but you know how work goes._ **

**_Meet you at Joe Blog’s place._ **

**_Make it a late brunch._ **

**_Your favourite pain the ass._ **

Yep, that would take a little decoding.

 _‘Hey Ram.’_ That was directed at Moody’s patronus, a Highland Mountain Goat.

 _‘I’ll be in London tomorrow week.’_ Meant tomorrow. _‘Could do with some chips.’_ Chips were made from potatoes and chats were a size of potato. The broken-down meaning was I could do with a chat.

 _‘Pity I won’t be there sooner, but you know how work goes.’_ This was easier to interpret, it meant ‘Urgent, work related’.

 _Meet you at Joe Blog’s place._ Joe Blog being the ID tag for the Pan statue.

 _‘Make it a late brunch.’_ How many wizards or witches even knew what brunch was? And that a late one, was lunch.

 _Your favourite pain the ass._ This appellation was actually reserved for both James and Sirius, equally.

“What’s the time?” Harry asked.

“Pup, seriously?” Sirius rolled his eyes. “If you don’t shut up and sit still, I’m going to strangle you.” He shook his head. “Either that or hit you with a silencing hex and a body-bind.” He muttered.

“There he is!” Harry pointed and sure enough, there was the scarred Auror stomping down the path.

As he got closer, he glanced in their direction, automatically scanning for threats. Those scans came to a screeching halt, as his mind caught up with his eyes. Moody thumped his walking stick into the ground as he approached them and let the enlarged wand channel his magic and toss up the privacy charms that he wanted.

“Black…” He growled at Sirius before turning to study Harry. “… and… **_Potter?”_**

“Sort of.” Sirius answered.

“Explain. I checked the bodies, I know they weren’t golems.” Moody grunted.

“No, they weren’t, but we weren’t here then.” Sirius was speaking for he and Harry.

“Explain.” Moody demanded a second time.

“August 1976. You and Monty found a kid, a six-year-old girl…” Sirius trailed off.

“The squib?” Moody connected what Sirius wasn’t saying, with what he meant.

“Yeah…” Sirius sighed.

“Both of you?”

“Yeah…” Another sigh.

“When?”

“Two years ago for me, last week for him.” Sirius tapped his chest and then pointed at Harry with a thumb.

“Why didn’t you go to Dumbledore?”

“Lots of reasons, but… me? Remember that teenage girl, the one James and I found around Yule, 1980?”

“The pregnant one?”

“Yeah.”

“What about her?”

“She was the same. And like you and Monty did, James and I told Dumbledore. A week later James asked Dumbledore how she was doing and Dumbledore brushed him off. He made some inquiries at work and suddenly we had an Unspeakable in our office, telling us to drop the inquiry or we’d end up in the same condition as the girl. James just had to push and ask what that condition was. We were bluntly told she was dead. Died in testing, just like the other kid.” Sirius explained.

“And him?” Moody had yet to speak to Harry.

“Oh, he’s got even more reason to avoid the old bastard, but if you want to know, it’s going to involve a pensieve.”

“And not Dumbledore’s.” Harry said.

“Shush, kid.” Moody grunted.

“Not a goddamned kid, Moody, I’m almost eighteen.” Harry snarled back.

Moody blinked. “You don’t look it.”

“Lady Magic.” Was all Harry said.

“Huh…” Moody huffed. “What happened and how bad was it?”

“In our… hmm… reality?” Harry’s expression was part grimace and part question, getting a nod from Sirius at how he’d described where they’d come from, he continued. “In our reality, Voldy didn’t die in 1981, but he did lose his body. I didn’t die and neither did Sirius. Sirius went to Azkaban for being our Secret Keeper, without a trial, and I was sent into the muggle world.” Harry sneered. “Fast forward ten years and I’m entering Hogwarts with less knowledge than a muggleborn. A Hogwarts that is employing Voldy as a Professor… well, he was possessing a Professor.” Moody looked sick. “From there it got worse. Death-Eaters on the rampage again. This time Voldy’s got no problem targeting the muggles, whole towns were destroyed, just to kill one muggleborn child. He even attacked London, muggle London, destroyed some of their bridges.” Moody’s looking progressively sicker as Harry went on. “All out civil war, it was. It exploded the day after I turned seventeen. Voldy took the Ministry. Muggleborns were rounded up and put in concentration camps, half-bloods were checked, if they didn’t have a pureblood ancestor on both parents’ sides, they went into the camps, too. Hogwarts was run like a prison, students were held to ensure the good behaviour of their families, any deviations were met with the student’s punishment, usually the cruciatus.”

“And this is why you came here?”

“No. I was in the resistance. Oh hell… I **_was_** the resistance. 2nd of May 1998, I killed Voldy. But that didn’t eliminate the warrants Voldy had ordered to be put out about me. I stood trial and was found guilty, but… because the trial was held under Mordred’s Law…” Harry sighed. “The court only had three options for my sentence.”

“Imprisonment, Exile and Death.” Moody offered.

“Yeah. But taking what I’d done into consideration, they let me choose. Imprisonment meant life in a small space, I’d seen what that had done to Sirius and I wanted no part of it. Exile meant having my core bound and my memories locked away. That meant loosing the memories of my friends, so I wasn’t too keen on that idea. Death, I could choose being Kissed, Executed or go through the Veil. I chose the Veil. I kept my memories and the court let me keep a few other things. I may not have my friends with me, but I can still remember them.”

“But they’re still here.” Moody frowned.

“Not really. The ones here, they aren’t the same people, they didn’t go through the same things. They’re going to be different people, just ones that look similar. **_Our_** personalities were forged in a war. The ones here, they only know peace.” Harry argued.

“Ah. So, why did you contact me? What do you need from me?”

Harry handed Moody the identity test he’d done the day after his arrival and the Auror read it.

“Oh… That could be a problem.”

“Yeah.” Harry grunted. "And we assume that Sirius' will be much the same."

“There is a way around it, but I’d need to have my boss sign off on it.” Moody warned.

“Scrimgeour?” Sirius grimaced.

“Yeah.” Moody nodded.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. I think we leave the veil out and just reveal the time difference, leave him to think that Lady Magic is the only reason for you being here.” Moody was staring off into space. “You won’t be the first time-traveller the DMLE has had to deal with, so there’s a protocol already in place that we’d have to follow.”

“What’s-his-face? Julien something-or-other?” Sirius asked.

“Michael Julien. Yep.” Moody nodded, again. “I’ll need you to show me your memories, kid. We need to know exactly what to show Scrimgeour to get the result we want.”

“Have you got access to a pensieve that’s not Dumbledore’s?” Harry asked. He'd found one in one of the wiz-spaces, but he also doubted that Moody would consider using it, without a thorough investigation and they just didn't have time for that, not right now.

“Only the one in the middle of the bull-pit.” Moody grimaced.

“It’s in a big clear-glass box, pup, completely visible from all sides. Only benefits are, that no one can hear anything said within it and it locks from the inside.”

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do.” Harry grinned. “You take us in, blurring charms covering our faces, say nothing about why, just lead us straight to the pensieve, we’ll work out what to tell Scrimgeour and once we have, you call him in, and I’ll give him the edited version. If we need to, we can show him a selection of my memories. But someone will need to teach me how to blank out names, mine is said too many times for him to miss it.”

“We can do that.” Moody grunted. “Now? Or after lunch?”

“Now, you don’t want to eat first. Trust me.” Harry shook his head.

Ten minutes later Moody lead the way into the DMLE office, his two companions’ faces obscured by a blurring charm. Through the field of desks, he stomped, ignoring everyone. He reached the large clear-glass box that shimmered with ripples of gold-tinged light.

“In.” He grunted loud enough for half the office to hear. The man and boy nodded and entered the box, followed by Moody, who very clearly cast the charms to lock the box down.

Those outside watched as both the man and the boy let Moody remove memories from them and place them in the pensieve built into the middle of the table. All three entered the pensieve to watch whatever memories had been placed in it. When the three were ejected, Moody went on the rant. The Aurors could see him stomping around the box, his arms waving and his mouth moving, but no one could hear what was said. Finally, Moody turned back to the other occupants and began to speak. The man nodded a few times, while the boy both nodded and shook his head at times. When the boy’s shoulders slumped and he nodded, Moody retrieved his wand and ended the box’s lock-down and opened the door.

“Get me Scrimgeour. Now.” He snarled.

Rufus Scrimgeour had been watching, curiously, from his office and when Moody spoke, he stood and left his office and made his way to the box.

“Moody.” Scrimgeour nodded to his senior-most Auror.

“Boss.” Moody grunted. “You’re gonna wanna be in on this.”

Scrimgeour nodded and entered the box, he waited until Moody had once again, locked it down before speaking.

“And who are these?”

“You don’t need to know their real names, boss, better if you don’t. Plausible deniability. For now, you can call him Nigel.” Moody pointed at the man, then at the boy. “And him, Ewan.”

“Very well. Nigel? Please explain.” Scrimgeour raised a bushy golden eyebrow.

“Nah, not me, I wasn’t there for most of it. You want Ewan, not me.” The man objected.

Scrimgeour blinked and turned to the boy introduced as Ewan. “Well?”

“My mother was a muggleborn, she and my father were killed in the last days of the Voldemort war in 1981. They were killed by Voldy himself, not one of his underlings, he was brought there by one of the men that shared a dorm with my father at Hogwarts, who was a covert Death-Eater. Nigel is… I’m not sure what to call… he was fostered by my grandparents, as his family were abusive. Anyway, Nigel went after the Death-Eater and was captured, he remained a prisoner of war for nearly twelve years, locked away in a remote location. I was sent to the muggle world to live with my muggle Uncle. He hated magic and me, equally. I wasn’t abused, not really, but I was neglected and… let’s call it… unloved. My bedroom, until I got my Hogwarts letter, was a cupboard. The boot cupboard under the stairs. My Hogwarts letter arrived, and it assumed that as my Uncle and his family knew about magic, because of mum, that I’d have been told about the wizarding world. Nothing could be further from the truth. I knew nothing, I hadn’t even known my own name until Uncle was forced to let me attend muggle school.”

Scrimgeour bristled.

“Oh, don’t get upset.” Harry laughed. “Not yet, it get’s worse from here. Uncle forbids me from going to Hogwarts and Dumbledore sends the groundskeeper, Hagrid to fetch me. Hagrid is sent for two reasons. One. He’s big enough to intimidate Uncle into letting me go. Two. Hagrid is completely loyal to Dumbledore and will present the old bastard in the best possible light. As the leader of the Light. And Slytherin as the Dark.” Harry snorted. “My first year included a possessed Professor, a troll in the castle and a trap for that same Professor. All targeted to encourage me to look to Dumbledore as my personal saviour. It took me years to realise that the old bastard was grooming me, but it wasn’t until a week ago, that we worked it out.”

“And that was?”

“Best if I do this in order. But you’ll get the same clues I did and as you know more about this world than I did, you’ll probably figure it out quicker than I did. Second year. There’s-”

“Second year, how old are you?”

“Again, best if I do this in order. Second year, students were petrified, literally petrified. Something was turning them to stone. Turns out a student was ensnared by an enchanted book and had accessed a forgotten part of the castle and released a basilisk. We were extremely fortunate that no one was killed. One of my year-mates figured it out just before she was petrified. Again, Dumbledore left it to me and a dormmate to deal with, leaving us just enough help to get through it, not uninjured, but nothing that a short stay in the hospital wing wouldn’t fix.”

“Gods.”

“Third year? Just before third year started there was a breakout from Azkaban.” Ewan paused.

“One of the Ministry toadies that visited where I was being held boasted where I could hear him.” Nigel spoke up. “I had no idea how long I was, where I was, but I’d spent most of that, practising the only bit of wandless magic I knew. Animagi.”

“Registered?” Scrimgeour asked.

“No.” Nigel looked at him like he was stupid. “It took me years to make the shift and even then, I had to hide it from my captors. I used it to escape.”

“He used the clamour over the Azkaban breakout to hunt me down. But he made a mistake and Dumbledore found out about him. Had him locked up in his abusive parents’ house with a mental house-elf. I only got to see him for about a week between fourth and fifth year, but we’ll get to that.”

“Fifth year?”

“Like I said, we’ll get to that. The breakout caused the Ministry to place dementors around the school. Well, they didn’t like being denied the feast, that the students presented, and they attacked during a quidditch match.”

Scrimgeour didn’t speak, but he did make a groaning sound.

“Fourth year? Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom **_and_** his plan to mould me the way he wanted, re-instituted the Tri-wizard Tournament and allowed one of his Professors, who just happened to be a Death-Eater under polyjuice, to enter my name. I was portkeyed away, during the third task, the Death-Eaters had come up with a way to resurrect Voldemort, by creating a golem for his 'soul' to inhabit and my blood was to be a vital ingredient. They figured that as I was so powerful, on a level with Dumbledore even given my young age, that my blood would pass that power to their Voldy-golem.”

Scrimgeour groaned again.

“Fifth year, the Ministry sent a representative to Hogwarts, but she had her own agenda. Students were tortured using a blood quill and by the time exams started, she’d introduced over one hundred and thirty decrees, every one of them designed to increase her and the Ministry’s control of the school. They were denying that a Voldy-golem had been created and were calling me a delusional delinquent. During my History exam, the Voldy-golem sent me a vision, via my blood, of him torturing Nigel, here in the Ministry. Me and a few friends came to rescue him and fell into the trap the Voldy-golem had set. Nigel duelled with a cousin, who was a Death-Eater and was killed. I duelled with the Voldy-golem in the atrium, long enough for the minister and his staff to arrive and see the Voldy-golem for themselves.”

Scrimgeour looked like he was going to be sick.

“Sixth year was fairly quiet. Dumbledore was giving me private lessons, which in turn, I was passing to my most trusted friends. Lessons in the life of Voldemort. Dumbledore took me from the school one evening, he needed assistance to acquire an item needed to weaken the golem and believed that the blood the Voldy-golem had got from me, would let us pass the artefact’s protections. It nearly didn’t and Dumbledore was poisoned. We got back to the school to find Death-Eaters had gained access to the school, by way of a pair of vanishing cabinets. Dumbledore was killed by one of them.”

Scrimgeour just sighed.

“I didn’t return to Hogwarts for my seventh year. As the Voldy-golem’s main target, it just wasn’t safe. On the first of August the Ministry fell to the Death-Eaters and I was on the run. For the rest of the year, I hid, camping in out of the way locations, staying off the magical scanners by not using any magic. Around Easter we were captured and taken to a Death-Eater’s house, but they weren’t sure who we were and that gave us enough of an edge to fight back and escape, again. The 1st of May, we snuck into Hogwarts and retook the school. We sent most of the students away, but some stayed to fight. And fight we did. Just after dawn on the 2nd, the Voldy-golem and I faced each other, he hit me with the Killing Curse. I died.”

Tears fell from Scrimgeour’s eyes. "Dumbledore set you up to die." It wasn't a question.

Ewan nodded. “I went somwhere white, it was a bit like King's Cross Station, there I was given a choice. I could ‘go on’ and be at peace with my parents, Nigel and the friends that had already died. Or… I could ‘go back’. I chose to return and expected to return to that same time and place.”

“And you didn’t?” Scrimgeour asked.

“I walked out of the entryway to platform 9¾, ten years before I died, in my younger body. I found Nigel, by accident. I thought I was the only one that Lady Magic involved, but Nigel remembers, too. How? We don't know. We decided that we couldn’t let things happen the same way, not again. We made a plan and saw to its execution, Voldemort is no longer a consideration, his Death-Eaters are neutralised.”

“But the trials? We put them on the stand, we used veritaserum.”

“That was only the marked Death-Eaters and the suspected sympathisers. What about his unmarked followers and the Death-Eaters’ kids? The sleeper cells?”

“Oh, hell…” Scrimgeour groaned.

“Not anymore. Targeted obliviates remove specific details. Those sleeper cells can wait for a call, but they won’t remember what the call was.”

“Hmm…”

“But… obliviates are tied to the caster’s magical signature. The caster can restore those memories.” Ewan warned.

“You’d do that? What do you want?” Scrimgeour frowned.

“New lives. Authorise Moody to access some [_rescribere_](overwrite) potions. Let us have completely new lives. Alter our appearance, our age, our core, our signature and give us new names. Seal it magically. And leave us to live our lives.”

“If your signatures are altered, you can’t remove an obliviate.” Scrimgeour noted. “And who will you become?”

“Better if you don’t know. Neither the minister nor Dumbledore can demand information, if you don’t have it. Leave Moody to deal with it, we trust him, his grandsons… well, let’s just say that Minerva McGonagall is going to think she’s in Hell, having Moody’s boys and the Weasley twins in Gryffindor together… they were good friends, one was hit by a cutting curse and the other with a heart-stopper.” And while Harry was letting Scrimgeour think he meant Moody's grandson, he knew he was telling the truth about the Weasley twins, it just didn't happen in the same battle, George had lost his ear, ten months before Fred was killed.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Scrimgeour said to Moody.

“I haven’t lost ‘em yet and I don’t plan on losing them at all.” Moody was adamant. “I’ll train ‘em up, meself. I’ll be wanting underage exemptions for them.”

Scrimgeour just nodded. “See to these two, before you do that. I’m assuming that Nigel will be Ewan’s father after this?”

“I’m the closest blood relation he has.” Was all Nigel said.

“Very well. Moody? You’ll need to use a [_ratio ostium_](system%20opening) potion to allow the changes to be absorbed, before using [_rescribere_](overwrite). If you’re changing that much about them, I suggest taking a full alteration kit, empty what you don’t use into a conjured bowl and banish it when you’re finished. Don’t give anyone, anything to speculate about what you might have done. You’ll also need to create backgrounds, not just for them but for their parents. Take a few identity confirmation kits and make sure the changes are completely valid.” Moody nodded in response to Scrimgeour’s directions. “And for Merlin’s sake, don’t forget to get their papers backdated, lodged and obliviate the WFS people, before you let them go.”


	9. Chapter 9

_“Very well. Moody? You’ll need to use a[ **ratio** **ostium**](system%20opening) potion to allow the changes to be absorbed, before using [**rescribere**](overwrite). If you’re changing that much about them, I suggest taking a full alteration kit, empty what you don’t use into a conjured bowl and banish it when you’re finished. Don’t give anyone, anything to speculate about what you might have done. You’ll also need to create backgrounds, not just for them but for their parents. Take a few identity confirmation kits and make sure setting the changes.” Moody nodded in response to Scrimgeour’s directions. “And for Merlin’s sake, don’t forget to get their papers backdated, lodged and obliviate the WFS people, before you let them go.”_

As Moody locked the box down again after Scrimgeour left, Sirius smirked at Harry, which was a bit pointless as Harry and Sirius still wore blurring charms. “That was brilliant, pup. Everything you told him was the complete and utter truth, but the big picture you gave him was considerably different than what I remember.”

“Well, the hat did say I’d do well in Slytherin.” Harry replied innocently, leaving Sirius to gape and Moody to roar with laughter.

“He’s got you there. Now, enough with the patting yourselves on the back, we’ve a shitload of planning to do. Starting with this…” He slapped down a thick file on the table. “Now, we’ve two options to choose from, do we do the planning here or do we go elsewhere…” Something occurred to Moody. “For that matter, where have you been staying?”

Harry laughed. “Forest of Dean. One of the first things I did was to buy myself a tent and I’ve been there since. Wanna come and have dinner with us?”

“And you can explain to Harry just exactly what’s involved in a permanent overwriting process.” Sirius added.

“That I can do.” Moody picked up the file and tucked it away into a pocket. “Maybe better get a couple more of these…” Moody huffed. “Might need ‘em.”

“Don’t suppose Harry and I can visit Borgan and Burkes? I need some better matched wands.” Sirius said hopefully.

Moody gave Harry a narrowed glare. “Borgan and Burkes? What the hell were you doing down there?”

“Getting a wand.” Harry answered, matter-of-factly. “Oh, get over it, no one knew I was there, I followed Malfoy when he went to get rid of… I think it was a dagger and a necklace… I was under my invisibility cloak the whole time, geez, Moody I’m not stupid.” Harry snarked.

Moody just looked at the two of them. “You two are going to drive me grey, you know that, right? And yes, Nigel, we can go to Borgan and Burkes.”

“Why are you still calling me Nigel?” Sirius whined.

“Because you don’t like it and we don’t need people knowing who you are.” Moody ended the box’s lockdown and lead the two out. “You need a new wand, something to move forward with, something experienced. I think… Some minor glamours and we’re heading for the alley.”

“Might check Borgan and Burkes, Mad-Eye.” A new voice said. Turning Harry and Sirius saw a much younger Kingsley Shacklebolt.

“Uh.” Moody grunted. “Yeah, they’ve a good stock. “We’ll head there first, then we’d best find somewhere to get some research and planning done.”

“Need another set of eyes?” Kingsley offered.

Moody looked at him, steadily. “I don’t think so, but if that changes, I’ll call ya.” The older Auror told the newly graduated young man.

“Right.” Kingsley nodded and headed back to his desk. He knew better than to push, but he’d made the offer.

“Come on, you two. Let’s go.” Moody lead them from the DMLE and out of the Ministry, via the DMLE’s restricted access. It was a portal that lead straight to the junction of Diagon and Technic Alleys.

“Over here.” Harry lead them to the tiny alley between WWW and the bootmaker’s and up the stairs, he paused at the top of the stairs to key them into his semi-permanent notice-me-not on both the stairs and the rooftop.

“Whoa, pup. That’s some serious spell-work, there. Where’d you learn that?” Sirius asked.

“It’s not something that’s taught at Hogwarts.” Moody agreed.

“The Black library, Siri. Mione, Ron and I camped out there for nearly two months. And you know Mione.” Harry answered.

“Let me guess, first thing she did, was hit the library?” Sirius sighed.

“Second. First was checking for other people.” Harry corrected.

Sirius blinked and Moody snorted.

“Smart girl.” Moody nodded approvingly.

“You have **_no_** idea.” Harry shook his head in amusement. “But I’ve got a question? Our wands? If you’re going to change our cores, won’t that mean that our wands aren’t going to match us anymore?”

“Normally, yes.” Moody answered. “But once you’ve both got a quartet of wands, we’ll see about blood-bonding them to you, during the alteration process. Your own blood is introduced into the wand as an additional core, but the process actually links the blood in the wand to you, any changes that happen to you that affect your blood will affect the blood in your wand.”

“Oh…” Harry exclaimed, almost silently.

“It’s Auror standard procedure.” Sirius nodded. “Well, the blood-bonding is, but the four wands bit, that’s just Moody. Most Aurors only have two.” He shrugged.

“But I’ve already got two.” Harry said.

“That’s fine, pup. Most people come into the program with one or two.” Sirius assured him.

“So, going to Borgan and Burkes to get two wands for me and three for Sirius? That’ not going to stand out?”

“Nah…” Moody drawled. “We’ll be getting Black four wands. We just tell Borgan that the fourth is a better match than his existing, if we get better matches. If not, there are a few other places we can go. The Junk shop on Quaffle Row in Dublin, Harbisher’s on Pegasus Court in Glasgow, Dervish and Banges’ on Castle Drive in Hogsmeade and Littleford’s in The Harpy’s Square in HolyHead. Plus, the DMLE has a small collection of wands, mostly those that were somehow involved in a case and all parties are deceased. It’s a last resort and not recommended.”

“Right. Borgan and Burkes it is.” Harry sighed.

“Glamours?” Sirius asked. Harry smirked and focused on his older appearance, before casting the Auror level charm. “Whoa, pup, nice.” The Animagus nodded his approval.

“Who taught you that, Pot- Ewan?” Moody grunted.

“A young Auror who is in her… fourth…fifth… no, fourth year at Hogwarts, right now.” Harry answered.

“Fourth year?” Moody grunted. “That’s a bit young to be teaching you, isn’t it?”

“She was one of my Order guards, we got a bit bored sitting there just staring at each other, so she tried to send a tickling hex at me, I sent it back and... things escalated. You were the one to tell her to ‘teach him, just keep him busy’, you’re damned lucky she didn’t try something else. I was a fifteen-year-old boy, after all.”

“Ugh…” Moody grunted. “Enough. I’ll take you, one at a time for Borgan and Burkes’. Who’s first?”

Harry and Sirius looked at each other.

“I’ve already got two wands, Siri. You need a decent match, you go.” Harry said.

“And what’re you gonna do?” Moody grumbled.

“I’ll head down to Scribulus’, again, and get some parchment sheets, some ink and…” He paused. “Maybe I should go into muggle London and get some pens?” He mused.

“Scribulus sells fountain pens, pup. Get a couple of them.” Sirius told him.

“I can do that. Then, I’ll come back here and get started on some notes. Names, backgrounds, that sort of thing.” He looked at Moody. “Unless you want me to go pack the tent up?”

“Where is it?”

“Forest of Dean.” Harry answered.

“It’s one of Carson’s?” Moody asked.

“Yeah.”

“Get the tent, bring it back and put it up, here. Your protections will keep it hidden and the ambient magic from the alley will mask anything we do.” Moody directed. “We should be back in an hour or so. Then I’ll take you.”

“You do realise, I can take myself? Don’t you?”

“Not if we want Borgan to think this is just a trainee intake.” Moody corrected.

“Point.” Harry sighed. “Off you go, then.” He apparated away hearing Moody mutter about ‘bloody Potters’.

The three sat watching the sunset over London, from the comfort of their armchairs. The remains of a hearty meal on the conjured picnic table, in front of them.

“So, going to tell me what’s involved in using the potions that Scrimgeour mentioned?” Harry asked Sirius.

“Not me, pup, I never had to learn.” Sirius answered.

“No, he wouldn’t have. Only the few Master Aurors and our Potions Masters, know about the potions and what’s involved in using them.” Moody said. “That’s only… what… six of us? Seven?”

“Alright. What is involved?” Harry wasn’t going to be dissuaded.

Moody sighed. “The process… it’s complicated, but at the same time, it’s fairly straightforward. We’ll work out who you are going to be, then work our way backwards from there, in as much as parents and grandparents, etc. Once we have a family tree done, we start with the actual alteration process.” He lifted his flask to take a sip. “First is the [_ratio ostium_](system%20opening) _._ That allows any changes we make to you to be absorbed into your core. Then, you take the [_rescribere_](overwrite), any changes you want are made, at the end you take a setting agent and the changes become permanent. There’s a little more to it, but that’s the simplified version.” He snorted. “I notice that you primed Scrimgeour. My grandsons. You know damn well I don’t have any grandsons. What’s your plan?”

“We don’t have to be your actual, blood grandsons, but it’d be more believable that you’d keep grandsons or foster-grandsons off the Ministry’s detections net.” Harry said. “We haven’t’ worked out what relationship Sirius and I are going to have to each other, or to you. But it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss.” Harry answered.

“What are your options?” Moody raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve three options, Sirius and I, that is. One, father and son. Two, Uncle raising an orphaned nephew. Three, brothers.” Harry answered, while Sirius climbed to his feet and headed for a bathroom.

“They’d all work. Let’s take each one and breakdown what’s needed.” Moody summoned his coat and pulled out the wad of parchment. “Right. Option one, father and son. Id’s for son, father, mother and grandparents. Option two, uncle and nephew. Same, plus Id for uncle. Option three, brothers. Id’s for brothers, father, mother and grandparents.” Moody waved and the parchment began to take notes. “Amounts to much the same. However, if you really want to be my grandsons, that eliminates the need to create Id’s for mother and anything on the maternal side.” He hummed. “And I’ve thoughts on some of the paternal side, too. Let’s wait for Black to get back.”

When Sirius re-joined them, Moody nodded and began to explain. “Potter mentioned your options, I’ve got possibilities, if you were to go with the third option, being brothers.”

“Go on.” Sirius sipped at his bottle of butterbeer.

“Depending on the age you want, my daughter is a possible mother, certainly for Potter, as his right now. For the father? Yeah… I’ve got a few possibilities, there. The clearest is to create a father via Id-golems.” 

“Id-golems?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. Id-golems can be used in two ways, one, introduce a blood sample into the golem and use it as a version of the person who provided the blood. Or… use the golem to create an Id from scratch, using blood replacement potions and magical birth-certificates.” Moody explained.

“So, if we left you free reign to sort that out, what would you do?” Harry wanted to know.

“About parents?” Moody asked and Harry nodded. “My daughter Laura…”

It took the three males, two days to hash out all the finer details. When they were done with the planning, it was time to act. And that meant interacting with the DMLE’s Potions Masters that also doubled as their ritual specialists.

“And they’ll be obliviated afterwards?” Harry asked, feeling more than a touch paranoid about the Unspeakables finding out what had happened to he and Sirius.

“Yes, lad, I’ll be doing it meself.” Moody said for the fifth time. “Now, come on. In here.” Moody lead them into a small office. “This office is nothing more than a front. Everyone in the DMLE knows the floo here is connected to our safe houses, but only a few of us know that it’s also connected to the department’s specialist area.” Instead of leading them to the floo-fireplace that was the prominent feature of the empty room, Moody lead them to a small built-in cupboard. He opened the cupboard and tapped a section of the cupboard’s ceiling, and one wall slid away to reveal a second floo-fireplace. “This one has only a single destination. Just toss the floo-powder down and let it do its job, no need for speaking.”

Thirty seconds later, the three stood in one corner of a very large room, Harry guessed it to be bigger than Hogwarts’ Great Hall. Also in the room were two unknown people, a witch and a wizard, and Scrimgeour.

“Boss?” Moody asked.

“I’m not staying, but I needed to sign-off on this, Alastor. When I’m gone, they can drop the glamours and let Sarah and Michael get to work.” Scrimgeour nodded to the, as yet, unintroduced couple and after signing another piece of parchment, he headed for the floo. “Good luck, you two.” He said as he passed Harry and Sirius.

“Thank you, Director.” Sirius bowed slightly as the man walked around him.

Scrimgeour didn’t say anything but he paused and returned the bow. Harry hadn’t said a word, but he did nod to the man before joining Moody.

Moody, in turn, waited for Scrimgeour to floo away before speaking to the two specialists. “Morning, Sarah, Michael.”

“Moody.” The pair spoke together.

“What’re we doing? Scrimgeour just said that he was authorising whatever you needed.” The wizard, Michael, said.

“We’re doing the lot, but we’re adding a setter. This is to be permanent.” Moddy answered.

“Permanent?” The witch, Sarah, raised a brow.

“Permanent. Irreversibly permanent.” Moody clarified.

“Ooh, now that’s something we don’t do every day.” She whistled quietly.

“So, the lot then?” Michael asked.

“Almost. New Id’s for them and part of their paternal side. The maternal is existing. And some of the paternal are deceased but existed.” Moody corrected.

“That could be a problem, Moody, living relatives and new Id’s rarely mix well.” Michael objected.

“Not this time, Michael, family are fine. Already consulted and good to go.” Moody huffed.

“If you say so.” Michael sighed. “Alright you lot, over here.” He made a ‘come with me’ gesture and lead them to a series of free-standing noticeboards. “This is where we’ll lay out the information and create your family history. Moody said some of them were existing, the maternal side. We’ll start here with great-grandparents. Do we have any of them?”

“We do. But I can shorten the process, I have a blood donation, willingly given, for their mother. My daughter, Laura. And for some of the paternals.”

“Oh, well, that explains why you said family are good to go. That will shorten it. Here, let me get you an Id-golem.” Michael pulled out a specimen jar that held what looked like a cross between a jellyfish and lump of pale pink chicken breast. “This is an Id-golem.” He told Harry and Sirius. “It’s a potion-created chunk of human flesh. Kind of gross. But it’s blank as far as genetic material goes. We have to inject it with human blood, willingly given, for it to become usable. We’ll enlarge it and add some blood replenishing potions and soon enough, we’ll be able to take enough blood from it to use in the ritual to create a new Id.”

“What if you don’t have blood?” Harry asked.

“Ah, then we have to use a blood replacement, a blood quill, a dragonhide gauntlet and a magical birth certificate.” Sarah answered. “As we’ll also be creating part of your paternal line from scratch, you’ll get to see that, soon. For now, let’s work on the maternal side.”

While Sarah was answering, Moody had handed over a large-ish phial, it looked like it would hold about a cup of liquid, to Michael, who carefully placed it on a table, before pulling on a pair of tight leather gloves. Then he opened the phial and using an equally large syringe, drew up as much blood as the syringe would hold. Then the specimen jar was opened and the blob of flesh, lifted free. Michael held the blob, while Sarah injected it with the blood, them Michael let it slide back into the jar.

“That will take a few minutes to be absorbed, so let’s see about the paternal side. What have you got for us?”

“Great-grands. Father’s grandparents, paternal side.” Moody held up a pair of phials strapped together. “Marius Altair Grimm, born Black and Beatrice Mary Caldwell.”

“Black? Moody are you out of your mind? The Blacks won’t accept that.” Michael objected.

“Marius was disowned for being squib, Michael, the Blacks have no claim over him or his descendants.” Moody explained.

“Oh… that’s different then.” Michael blinked. “Okay.” Two more blobs were retrieved and injected with blood. Then on a board that was divided and labelled like a blank family tree, Sarah began to fill in spaces, but instead of names, she used numbers. Under ‘mother’ was the number ‘1’, while ‘2’ and ‘3’ much higher up on the paternal side.

“Well, that gets us started, anyway.” She nodded. “So, all we need to do now is fill in the gaps.”

Half an hour later, the family tree was complete, names had been added and they were ready for the next step.

Marius Altair

Grimm

| 

Beatrice Mary

Caldwell

| 

Peter Graeme

Temple

| 

Sarah Anne

Little

| 

Sinclair Lennox

Moody

| 

Elspeth Agnes

Wimple

| 

Maxwell James

Stebbins

| 

Catriona Elsie

Ramsay  
  
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---  
  
Castor Orion

Grimm

| 

Margaret Louise

Temple

| 

Alastor Magnus

Moody

| 

Jessica Anne

Stebbins  
  
Corvus Rigel

Grimm

| 

Laura Anne

Moody  
  
Titan Aloysius & Paddrick Magellan

Grimm  
  
“Okay, so how old are we making you two? Please be aware that we can de-age someone, but we can’t increase their age.” Sarah warned. "There are potions that will do that, but we consider them to be unsafe and unreliable."

"So, the DMLE won't allow them to be used." Michael added.

“That’s fine.” Sirius assured them. “We’ve thought about this pretty seriously and we’ve decided on a date of birth. 1stof April 1978.”

“For both of you?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah. Twins. Fraternal, but similar enough to get mistaken for identical at first glance. We want our eyes to stay the same as they are now. Everything else is negotiable.” Sirius answered.

“Right. We can do that.” Michael grinned. “So… the first thing we’re going to do is… _ratio_ _ostium_ potion. Here, one each, down the hatch, lads.” He handed over two small phials of clear liquid and after sharing a glance, Harry and Sirius swallowed the contents. “Excellent. Now, let me set the date on these.” He began to chant over another pair of phials, this time containing a pale green liquid with blue swirls. When the swirls became a spiralling vortex, one significantly darker than the other, Michael them on the table. “The darker one is for you.” He slid one phial towards Sirius. “And the other is for you.” The second phial slid towards Harry. “The darker the potion, the stronger it is and the more it de-ages you. And we're only taking you,” he pointed to Harry, “back a few months.” He explained and waited until the empty phials were back on the table. “Excellent. Sit there for a few minutes while the de-aging stabilises. It shouldn’t be too long. Next are the genetic overwrite potions, one for maternal and a second for paternal.” Two pairs of bottles were placed on the table, each pair made up of a dark blue potion and a dark reddish-purple potion. “Drink the lot, but feel free to take your time. These won’t affect you until we activate them and that’s not going to be until at least, five minutes after you finish drinking them.”

Harry watched as Sirius began to de-age, for some reason, the fact that the whole process took minutes, instead of seconds, surprised Harry.

“While we’re waiting, bring your wands out and we’ll get them linked to you.” Sarah added. “We’re going to have to get someone in, for that, but she’s agreed to be obliviated, by one of you, so once we’re done here, it will be irreversible.” She didn’t wait for an answer, but headed for a small door, that neither Harry nor Sirius had noticed. She returned with an older witch, not as old as Dumbledore, but not that far from it. “This is Madam Woodley. She’ll be treating your wands, today and I’m going to let her explain what she plans to do and what’s required of you.” Sarah stepped back and went to work alongside Michael, mixing potions and using syringes.

“Gentlemen.” Madam Woodley nodded to them.

“Madam.” Harry and Sirius nodded back.

“Madam Woodley. Thank you for coming.” Moody nodded.

“Auror Moody, how far am I taking this?”

“Treat them the same as any other graduate.” Moody directed.

“Both graduates?” She asked. “Undercover?” She looked at the shrinking Sirius and the already small Harry.

“No and I hope that neither of them enters the corps.” Moody answered. "Protection program."

“Ah. But you still want them to have their wands treated?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.” She turned from Moody to Harry and Sirius. “Gentlemen, what I shall do is combine all of your wands into one staff and link that to your blood, then I shall divide the staff back into wands. This means that each wand will be exactly the same as the others. The same timbers, the same cores and all with direct access to your core. Shall we see what I have to work with?”

Harry and Sirius both bit their lips, tongues or cheeks to refrain from commenting, but both began to pull wands out. Sirius flicked his at Harry and shrunk his clothes to fit his slightly younger body and then did the same to shrink his own wizarding robes to fit his much younger body. They were going to have to go clothes shopping, after this. Sigh...

“Hmm… One at a time, I think. You first.” Madam Woodley held up a hand to stop them from putting all their wands on the table at once and pointed at Harry. He nodded and laid his four wands out, side by side, on the table. “Interesting, interesting. Acacia, subspecies Spear Wattle. Silver birch. Ebony. African Blackwood. And what of the cores? Hmm…?” She muttered, but it was clear that she wasn’t asking Harry, as all her attention was on the wands. “Horned Serpent heartstring. Basilisk venom. Griffin Heartstring. Unicorn blood, willingly given. Phoenix tears, willingly given. Occamy shell, powdered. Thunderbird claw. And Snidget feather. A very interesting combination.” She pulled a pair of rune-covered gloves from a pocket and put them on, before picking up two wands. A few minutes of chanting and Harry watched as the two wands melted together to form a longer, thicker wand-shape. Then a third wand was added, followed by a fourth, until Madam Woodley was holding a short staff.

“Now, young sir? I need you to cut your hand and clasp it around the staff. And don’t let go until I tell you to.”

Harry nodded and held out a hand to Moody, a swipe with a knife and Harry’s palm was cut from wrist to fingers. He held out his bloody hand and Madam Woodley lay the staff across his palm and watched carefully as he closed his hand around the staff. She nodded and began to chant again, and Harry could feel the wand pulling at his blood and core. It lasted only a few seconds, but he felt lightheaded when it ended.

“Well done, let go, now.” She ordered and Harry let his hand fall. He leant against Sirius and shook his head to clear it. More chanting and the staff once again melted, this time it slid into two pieces, then each of them melted into two. Madam Woodley let the wands slide from her hands to the table. “There we are, lad, four identical wands, all linked to each other and to your blood and core. They’ll not work for anyone not of your blood. Those that share your blood? Well, it depends on you. If you hand them the wand, or throw it to them, with intent for it to work as well for them, as it does for you? It should. If they just pick up the wrong wand, it may work, but not to the same degree. I would suggest adding a focus stone to each wand, it will enhance your accuracy with intricate spell-work and aiming for duelling. It will also serve as an identification means, if your wands are placed with someone else’s. For you? I’d recommend a peridot or chrome tourmaline. I can do that, or you can take it to any wandmaker of your choice to have it added.”

“Do it.” Moody answered for Harry.

“Certainly, that will take only a few moments.” She pulled out a small box, laid it on the table and enlarged it. The front folded down and the top folded over and away and Harry saw row after row of tiny drawers, stacked ten high. Madam Woodley opened one and slid it onto the table. “Run your fingers over that and pull out five stones.”

“Five?” Harry asked, but did as he was told.

“Five. I’ll need to blend them together, like I did with the wands, before splitting them apart, otherwise they won’t be identical.” She answered. Harry handed her five different stones, three dark and two paler. “Ah, thank you lad.” A few moments of chanting and four stones sat on the table. Madam Woodley pickup one stone and one wand and set the tip of the wand against the stone and, again, began to chant. When she finished the end of all four wands looked like a tiny obelisk of green stone, a swirling streak of lighter stone within it.

As the wands lay on the table the swirls of lighter stone, barely moved, but when Harry picked up a wand, swirl on all four wands began to twist faster, and the light grew brighter.

“Whoa, that’s wicked…” He whispered.

“Thought you might like that. Now, you can cast a minor glamour over them, if you're going to Hogwarts. No one will ever know.” She laughed. “Alright, next?” Sirius laid his wands out and waited, with bated breath, to see what she would do with his. “Right, then… Ebony. Black Walnut. Poplar. And Bocote. Nice mix. Now, the cores. Dragon Heartstring. Lethifold blood. Unicorn Blood, willingly given. Nundu breath, liquified. Phoenix ash. Dragon Heartstring, again. Basilisk venom. And Snidget feather. Almost as bad as your friend’s. Now, for a focus stone… hmm…Hematite… or Obsidian.” She reached around the drawers and pulled out two. “Pick me five.” She ordered and began to mould the wands into a staff and then back into four wands. When Sirius handed her two hematite stones and one large shard of obsidian, she sighed. “You would pick that one, wouldn’t you?”

“Something wrong with my choices?” Sirius asked, frowning.

“Not wrong, it’s just… that piece is going to demand blood. It’s vampire obsidian not volcanic obsidian. Cut your hand and hold it out palm up.” She waited for Sirius to do so, before dropping the stone onto his palm. “Now, we wait, it should only be a few moments, though.” Sure enough, within a few seconds, the blood pooling on Sirius’ palm was sucked into the stone and the wound healed. “Right, hand it over.” She held out a gloved hand and Sirius dropped the stone into it, her other hand picking up the hematite.

Less than a minute later Sirius’ wands had black obelisk ends with swirling silver highlights.

“All done, lads. Now, that vampire obsidian? You’re going to have to feed it for the next few days. Once a day, should be enough. Same as here, cut your palm, which one doesn’t matter, and let a wand-tip sit on the wound, because the wands are bonded, it’ll share your blood across all four wands. Once it’s absorbed enough, it will heal the wound and you’d never know it was there. When it’s bonded with you completely, it won’t take any more blood and you will have to heal the wound, the last time.” She put her wand to her temple and drew out a strand of silvery-gold fluff and deposited it into a phial. “Just in case you need me do to something at some point in the future. Obliviates are fine, but a memory strand can be restored far easier.”

"Thank you, Madam." Sirius and Harry both gave her bows.

"No worries, lads. Oh, do either of you have items bonded to your magical signature?" The old witch asked.

"I do." Harry was glad he'd broken the tranfiguration on the stuff Hermione had sent with him, but he was slightly concerned about his mokeskin pouch.

"If you like, I can blood bond it to you, it's much the same process as the wands." Came the offer.

"I appreciate it." Harry pulled out his pouch and placed it on the table. Madam Woodley picked it up with the rune-covered gloves and chanted over it, before gesturing to Harry. He cut his hand and she placed the pouch on his palm, a few seconds and the wound was healed.

"There you go, all done, young man." She smiled at him.

"Thank you." Harry held the pouch to his chest and smiled back at her.

“If you'll come with me, I’ll see to the obliviate and your pay, Madam Woodley.” Moody escorted the witch away.

“Wands all done?” Michael approached them.

“Apparently.” Sirius answered.

“Great. Let’s get back to it. Sarah? We’re ready to activate the genetic overwrites.” Michael called.

“Coming.” Sarah left whatever it was that she was doing and joined them. “Okay. Ready?”

“Ready.” Both Harry and Sirius nodded.

“Good.” Michael nodded. “Now, this to going feel weird. Like a bubbling sensation, but all over your body. Let us know when it passes.” He took a deep breath and in sync with Sarah began to chant.

The bubbling sensation was similar to having a fizzy drink and getting bubbles up your nose, but like Michael said, it was all over, and Harry was sure that even his hair was bubbling. He lifted a hand, fully expecting to see his skin bubbling, but was a little disappointed that it wasn’t. What it **_was_** doing was changing colour, from the pale peaches and cream combination that Harry inherited from James and Lily, to a pale golden olive tone, that was far more common in the Black family.

When the bubbling passed, Harry and Sirius both nodded.

“Excellent. Now, let’s get an impression of you both so we can do any changes you want.” He cast an obscure charm and full-size images of Harry and Sirius appeared. “Now, let’s double that and see what you’ll look like as adults, huh?” A second cast and a second set of images appeared, a variant of the same charm was also cast, and the newer images began to age. “I think we can stop about there.” Michael let his wand fall when the two older images looked to be about twenty-five. “So… changes?”

“Eyes. Back to blue-grey for me and green for Har- him.” Sirius stumbled part way through Harry’s name.

“Hey, don’t worry about names, you’ll have new names when we’re finished, and Sarah and I will be obliviated of anything that happened after we entered the room.” Michael shrugged. “It’s standard for this type of situation. We came into the room, knowing it was going to happen.”

“Right.” Sirius sighed.

“Hair.” Harry said. “Back to black but keep the new waviness.” Harry liked it, it looked and felt softer and more manageable than the Potter mess he’d been dealt.

“Level out the adult heights, too, please.” Sirius added. “Both of us, about five-ten.”

“Build seems about right, I mean, we’re both fairly slender. Maybe a little broader in the shoulders for me, to make us more even?” Harry turned to Sirius.

“Yeah, that’d be fine.” Sirius nodded.

“Right. Like this?” Michael made some minute changes by chanting and pointing his wand at each of them and the images changed to show the long-term effects of those changes.

“Yeah…” Harry said.

“Yeah.” Sirius agreed. “It’s still us, our features are only fractionally changed, but with hair, build and colouring, it’s obvious that we’re siblings and our size makes it just as obvious that we’re twins. Yeah, that’s good.”

“Great.” Michael sighed. “So… all we have left are… names and the setting agent. We just need you to fill out magical birth certificates, do your Id tests to confirm and we’re done. A setting agent and… Moody can handle the rest.”

Sarah laid two magical birth certificates on the table and held out two quills. Harry looked at them and frowned.

“Let me guess… Blood quills…” he sighed.

“Yep. When a baby is born, the healers take a small sample of blood from the baby, that the parents use to link the magical birth certificate to the baby’s core. As you’re not babies, you get to do it yourselves and blood quills are the only implement that enable that link to be created.”

“Great.” Harry sighed but he picked up the quill and pulled a certificate towards him. “Now, I just need to make sure I spell it right.”

“You chose it, pup.” Sirius smirked.

“I did.” Harry snorted, but continued to write. “But it sounds right, a good wizarding name, you know.” He answered, glancing over to see Sirius put his quill down and rub the back of his hand.

“You still got those Identity test from Gringotts, lad?” Moody asked Harry.

“Yep. Here.” He pulled out two bundles and laid them on the table.

“Well? You know what to do.”

Harry smirked and flicked his wand, concentrating on a small cut. He let the crystal draw up his blood and fill, before dropping the darkened crystal into a phial and giving the phial a gentle shake, watching as Sirius did the same. Both he and Sirius pulled a sheet of parchment towards them and poured the liquid over the parchment.

“Should only take a few minutes.” Harry said. “Gods, I hope this works.”

“Me too, pup.” Sirius nodded.

“You can’t keep calling me ‘pup’, anymore Siri, you’re the same age as me, now.” Harry laughed.

“I’m still older than you. I can still call you ‘pup’ if I want.” Sirius objected.

“Only by a few minutes.”

“Still… older…” Sirius pouted.

Harry turned his Id test over and studied it.

**_Titan Aloysius Grimm. (1 April 1978 -)_ **

_Mother – Laura Anne Moody (30 June 1957 – 17 December 1978)_

_Father – Corvus Rigel Grimm (12 February 1954 – 17 December 1978)_

_Godfather – nil_

_Godmother - nil_

“It worked.” Harry, no, he was Titan, now. Titan’s legs nearly collapsed under him, just in relief.

“Nice… Ty, I’m going to call you Ty.” Sirius said.

“What about you? Is yours done?” Ha-Titan asked.

“Let’s see.” Sirius turned his test over

**_Paddrick Magellan Grimm. (1 April 1978 -)_ **

_Mother – Laura Anne Moody (30 June 1957 – 17 December 1978)_

_Father – Corvus Rigel Grimm (12 February 1954 – 17 December 1978)_

_Godfather – nil_

_Godmother - nil_

“They both worked. It worked, Pads.” Titan beamed at his new brother.

“Excellent. Now you get to take the setting agent and everything we’ve done today will be locked into your body and into your core.” Michael smiled at them, as he held out two more phials.

Titan took the phial and swallowed the black liquid that smelt vaguely like cherries. He looked over and saw his brother doing the same thing.

“Gentlemen, there are no potions that can make the two of you closer, emotionally or mentally, however, viewing memories in a pensieve can help. If you have access to one, I would suggest using it. It will increase the familiarity you have with each other and it’s that familiarity that will give people the impression of you having a twin-link connection.” Sarah told them.

“I’ve access to one, I’ll see that they use it.” Moody grunted.

“It will help, trust me.” Michael assured them all. “Been there, done that.”

“Right, lads.” Moody said. “You two take the portkey home, work on some trunks, if you want. I’ll finish up here, dispose of the unused potions, get your papers backdated and lodged, do the obliviates and see about opening vaults for you.”

“Yessir!” Both boys snapped Moody a salute and grabbed the old watchstrap that he held out.

As the portkey whisked them away, Titan heard Michael laugh.

“Those two are going to drive you even barmier than you already are, Moody.”


	10. Chapter 10

_“Right, lads.” Moody said. “You two take the portkey home, work on some trunks, if you want. I’ll finish up here, dispose of the unused potions, get your papers backdated and lodged, do the obliviates and open vaults for you.”_

_“Yessir!” Both boys snapped Moody a salute and grabbed the old watchstrap that he held out._

_As the portkey whisked them away, Titan heard Michael laugh._

_“Those two are going to drive you even barmier than you already are, Moody.”_

A month after Harry and Sirius became Titan and Paddrick, Moody watched as Titan tried to get Paddrick interested in a game of gobstones.

And failed.

“Dammit.” He sighed. “Those pair are going to be the death of my reputation.”

"What makes you say that?" Said the man seated in an armchair beside Moody's desk.

Moody studied Scrimgeour’s face, his eyes searching for something. “I…” He huffed a deep breath and handed Scrimgeour a note. “Feel free to read it aloud or to yourself.

“Nigel and Ewan were given new identities by the DMLE. They are now, Titan and Paddrick Grimm.” Scrimgeour said, his eyes widening as he realised what that meant, or what he **_thought_** that meant. “You mean to offer him the chance to… what…? Become their brother?”

“I do.” Moody nodded.

“Are you sure about this, Alastor?” Scrimgeour asked. “He’s not been involved in this, you said. Involving him now, and without the knowledge or consent of Nigel and Ewan? That could blow up in your face.”

"It could, but don't think it will."

“But… why him? There’s nothing special about him. Is there?”

“Not really, it’s more about what he **_would_** have become. You know the boys have time travelled, well in that other future, he was as close as a brother to Nigel and a much-loved mentor to Ewan.” Moody answered.

“Well, I don’t understand your reasoning, but I’ll concede that the Nigel I met last month and the boy out there have little similarities and I’m not talking about appearance. Nigel was bright and loud, that boy?” Scrimgeour pointed at Paddrick. “That boy is apathetic, verging on catatonic.” He sighed. “If something isn’t done… I shudder to think what will happen. You make the offer, I’ll sign off on it, when I get back to the office. Assuming he agrees, you can do it any time you want.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. You have to explain to him, who those boys were and what the offer entails.”

“Pensieve memories, boss. I’ve got a briefing ready to go. All he needs to do is watch and everything will be explained. Everything.” Moody grinned viciously.

“Then I suggest you get that letter written. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Scrimgeour nodded and stepped into the floo-fireplace and tossed a handful of floo-powder at his feet. He said something in Welsh and vanished in a burst of green flames.

Moody pulled a sheet of parchment to him and began to scribble out a note, once it was complete, he held out a letter to his owl. “Thanks, Iris.” He added as the owl swooped in and snatched the letter from his fingers. “Take that to Remus Lupin, he lives near Corris in Wales.” The owl dipped its head and flew out through the open window. “Now, I just have to hope he accepts and this works.”

The next morning, Moody sat beside the lockbox in the DMLE, waiting for Lupin to appear, not sure whether to hope that he would or wouldn’t. Before he’d made up his mind, either way, Gawain Robards lead the man in question through the ranks of desks.

“Moody, this man has a letter, says you wanted him here?” Robards asked, unsubtly, wanting to know more.

“That’s right.” Moody nodded. “Come on. In.” He gestured to the box. He had to hold up a hand when Robards made to follow Lupin. “Not you, not yet, you don’t have the clearance for this.”

“But-”

“No, not yet. Only the boss and I know what this is about, and it needs to stay that way.”

“So, you’re getting a civilian involved?”

“He’s already involved in this, right up to his neck. He just doesn’t know it. Doesn't remember it.” Moody corrected, letting Robards think that Lupin's memory had been altered or removed.

Robards’ eyes widened at the implications. “But…? You really think…? He's been...?”

“I don’t know yet, and until I can get some details and confirm others, I can’t be certain, once we are certain, we’ll make a plan to go forward with.”

“Right, I’ll leave you to it. If you need help…?” Robards trailed off.

“You’ll know about it.” Moody nodded and entered the box. A few flicks of this wand and they were locked down.

“Mad-Eye? What’s this all about?” Remus Lupin asked. He looked like someone a decade older than Moody knew him to be, and in dire need of a decent meal or two.

“I need you to watch something.” Moody growled.

“What?” Lupin frowned. “You called me here, into the Ministry, just to get me to watch something? Moody, are you crazy? Why the hell would you do that?” He demanded.

“Watch and you’ll understand.” Moody sighed and tipped a massive phial of memories into the built-in pensive. “It’ll take a while.”

Lupin looked at him and sighed. “Is it that important, Moody? Really?” It came out as an almost-whine.

“I consider this to be one of **_the_** most important things I’ve **_ever_** been involved in. Watch the memories and judge for yourself.” He pointed at the pensieve.

Lupin sighed. “Alright…” He sat at the table and immersed himself into whatever it was that Moody was demanding he watch.

Once he’d entered the pensieve, Moody sat across from him and retrieved a bundle of parchment from a pocket. He needed two names, one that could be shortened to ‘Remy’ and one that had the star connections that the Blacks favoured.

Just in case.

When a shell-shocked Lupin emerged, Moody handed over his hipflask, without a word. He let Lupin take a hefty swig, before pushing the younger man back into a seat.

“That was _**my**_ memory of watching _**their**_ memories.” Moody said.

“Oh, gods… that was…” Lupin looked quite ill.

“Yeah, that it was.” Moody nodded.

“Why… Why are you showing me?”

“You’re a werewolf and you considered Potter and Black, your pack.” It wasn’t a question, but Lupin nodded anyway. “I can give you back your pack.”

“How?” Lupin sat forward, suddenly attentive to what Moody was saying, his shock and grief put to the side.

Moody removed the memory from the pensieve and put another in its place.

“Watch that, it’s what was done to them.”

Lupin frowned. “And that’s what you plan to do to me?”

“Not planning anything, not really, just making sure there's the option. I have permission to do it, but it’s your call. If you prefer to just be their tutor, that’s fine.”

“I’m a werewolf, Moody.” Lupin warned.

“There’s a possibility we can correct that, but only a possibility.” Moody answered.

“What…?”

“Watch the memory. Then if you agree, we’ll meet with the DMLE’s specialists and see what can be done.” Moody directed.

“Right…” Lupin re-entered the pensieve and Moody went back to his name hunt.

This time we he emerged, Lupin wore a contemplative expression. “If you can deal with my lycanthropy, then yes, I’ll do that.” He jerked a thumb at the pensieve. “If you can’t, I won’t risk them.”

“Fair enough. I’m going to call Robards back in. I’d like him to escort you to Borgan and Burkes’ for some more wands, at minimum I want you to have four. Robards will be told that you’re a werewolf and one of my informants has stated that you have information that could unseat Greyback. But it’s something that cannot be done until a certain time and we need to hide you in the meantime. So, we’re going to do an overwrite on you. We’ll be letting him, and anyone he tells, think that it’s a temporary thing, but in fact…? It’ll be permanent. If you like we can ‘kill’ you off during your ‘hiding’, that’s up to you.” Moody explained.

“What about my stuff, my cottage and books?” Lupin asked.

“How long would it take you to pack ‘em up?” Moody countered. “Is it rented, or do you own it?”

“Ten… fifteen minutes. Maybe less. And I rent.” Lupin answered. “But the lease is up in a few weeks.”

“Right. Robards with take you for wands, then to your cottage. Empty it. Robards will bring you back here. Write up a…” He paused. “Got anything you can claim at Gringotts?”

“No, werewolves aren’t high on the employment, income or asset scale.”

“Right. Then, back here and write up an authorisation for the DMLE to act on your behalf, in terminating the lease or any other contracts. If I recall, you were in Dumbledore’s order, we’ll need to retire you from that.” 

“I’ll write up a resignation, I’m not staying where he thinks he can control me.” Lupin was adamant.

“Ease up. This Dumbledore, the one in this timeline? He hasn’t done the things you just watched. He wasn’t in the same position to do them, not saying he wouldn’t, I’m saying he **_hasn’t_**. There’s a difference.”

Lupin sighed. “Fine. I’m still not happy about being where he’s in control.”

“Get used to paying lip-service to the idea. My boys will be starting at Hogwarts in a year.” Moody snorted.

“You’re really going to let them go there?” Lupin’s brows rose sharply.

“Oh, I’ll be using it as blackmail. See that my boys are taught properly and keep it professional or I’ll pull them from the school and tell the Prophet and the School Board why.” Moody’s grin was more than a little vicious. “Plus, you’ll all be taught to fight old-school, muggle down and dirty. And a few other things.”

“Assuming you can deal with my lycanthropy… I’m in.” Lupin nodded.

“Good. Wait here.” Moody unlocked the box and stuck his head out. “Robards! Here.”

A head lifted, halfway across the room and the body attached to it, rose just as fast.

“Moody?”

“In.” Was all Moody said until he had the box in lockdown, again. “This is Remus Lupin, Greyback turned him when he was barely out of nappies. He’s provided information on Greyback and has more to give. It’s possibly enough to unseat the psychopathic bastard. The problem being, that we can’t act on Greyback until closer to the winter solstice, something to do with being the shorter full moons. But… Lupin’s not stupid, once he figured out what it was that he knew, he also knew that Greyback would come looking for him. In exchange for hiding him, he’ll tell us everything he knows about the beast.” Robards studied Lupin, but said nothing, only nodded. “We’ve two hours before the overwrite rituals can start. In the meantime, I want you to take him home to his cottage and stay with him, while he packs up. Then take him to Borgan and Burkes and get him some wands. Where he’s going, he’ll want to place them in different locations, so I’m suggesting at least four. See what matches up to him.”

“Anything else?” Robards was clearly ‘head in the game’ and ignoring the werewolf issue, after all, full moon was over a week ago.

“Bring him back here, give him ink and parchment, we need to have authorisation to act on his behalf, and meet me at the safehouse floo.” Moody directed. “I’ll take it from there.”

“Got it.” Robards nodded. “Mr Lupin? Can you side-along apparate or do I need to organise a return use portkey?”

“Um… portkey might be safer, I’m a little freaked out, right now…” Lupin said hesitantly.

“Understandable, if you’re up against Greyback.” Robards commented, sympathetically. “Come along and we’ll get you sorted and safely tucked away.” There was no condescension in the second Auror’s voice, just a matter of fact, business-like tone. “We’ll be back as soon as we can, Moody.”

A few minutes shy of two hours later, Moody lead Lupin through an empty room and into the floo of a built-in cupboard. They emerged into a large room containing a potions setup on one wall, a few free-standing notice boards and some large tables, with sliding cupboard doors down the entire length of one wall.

“Michael, Sarah.” Moody nodded to the two people wearing potions’ aprons over their Auror’s robes.

“Alastor.” The witch nodded back.

“Mad-Eye.” The wizard laid the quill in his hand down. “What are we doing?”

Moody held up a phial of memories. “This was done recently. I want you to view the memory and work with us. We may be doing the same to… let’s call him John, for now. And he’s a werewolf, that could be issue, but we’ll need to work around that.”

Michael and Sarah exchanged a long, speaking look, before Sarah spoke. “I’ll get Madam Woodley, if you’ll grab a pensieve?”

“Done.” Michael nodded and headed for a sliding door. He returned and placed a pensieve on a table and watched as Moody emptied the memory into it.

Sarah, meanwhile, had approached a different door that slid open to reveal a floo-fireplace. She activated it and her head disappeared into the green flames, moments later she leaned back and Madam Woodley stepped out.

The older witch walked regally from the fireplace and over to join Moody and Lupin at one table, while Sarah joined Michael and the two entered the pensieve.

“Madam Woodley, thank you for joining us.” Moody gave a bow of his head, but Lupin had been warned to stay quiet. Act where necessary but stay quiet until the wandsmith was gone.

“Auror Moody.” The witch nodded back, not even glancing in Lupin’s direction. “What can I do for you, today?”

“Standard treatment.” 

“He’s a little old for a graduate, isn’t he?” She asked.

“He would be, yes, but he’s not a graduate, he’s under protection, but it’s going to be long-term.”

“Ah, that makes more sense.” She nodded. “Very well, sir.” She said to Lupin. Let’s get you under way.”

Fifteen minutes later and the wandsmith was gone, leaving Lupin to stare at the wands in his hands. “That’s not something I expected.” He said quietly.

Moody didn’t get the chance to comment, as Sarah and Michael emerged from the pensieve.

“Right, what are we doing?” Michael asked.

“Lu-John has lycanthropy. Can we eliminate it?” Moody asked.

“Yes.” Michael said. “But… there’s always a but.”

“And the but, is?”

“The only way to do it is to de-age him. The problem is that the disease limits how far they re-age, after the de-aging wears off.” Michael said.

“Explain in more detail, please.” Moody frowned.

“Alright. A de-aging potion will revert John backwards in age to a specified point, younger than when he was infected. At least physically, mentally he will still retain his memories. Now, the norm with de-aging potions is that a person’s core determines how fast the potion is expelled from their system. But with lycanthropy, there is a difference. Yes, the de-aging potion works, but instead of it wearing off and the person re-aging to their prior age… lycanthropy restricts the timing and the re-aging. Instead of returning to his prior age, he’ll regain ten years. Ten years exactly, not a day more or a day less, regardless of how far we de-age him. And it all happens within two hours. The concern we have is, John’s final age will have to be within that ten years. There are no other options.”

“Hmm… Lupin?”

“I was bitten two months prior to my fifth birthday.” Lupin said.

“And how old were you aiming for?”

“Ten, as of the 1st of April.” Moody answered and Michael nodded.

"That's fine, then." Sarah stated.

“What’s involved?” Lupin asked.

“Well, it’s a bit… undignified. But no more painful than any monthly transformation. We strip you down and set up a vacuum system, around the area where you were bitten, then give you the de-aging potion. The vacuum system will stay in effect until the de-aging potion wears off, it's only there to ensure that no venom enters your bloodstream and as such is targeted to only work on venom. Like I said, that’s a maximum of two hours from the time you take the potion to it being out of your system. Once out of your system, you’ll be given a setting agent and be required to wait for one hour. The setting agent is to protect against the de-aging potion mutating and re-infecting you with any lycanthropic-carrying bacteria. Then a flushing potion to ensure neither de-aging potion nor setting agent have left anything behind, followed by a shower to wash off any external residues. Finally, we do the overwrite, like we did for the other two.” Michael answered.

“And as I have blood left from that overwrite process, that’s to be used for John, that should shorten the process even further.” Moody said, laying two large phials on the table.

“Excellent. So, as the only things we have to do, in addition to the lycanthropic treatment, are the de-aging and the actual overwriting process and the paperwork, we’re looking at a little less than four hours, all up.” Michael grinned.

“Has this been tested? The de-aging and lycanthropy thing?” Lupin asked.

“Yes. My sister was the first.” Sarah replied. “And I was the second… I was bitten sixteen years ago. Michael and I created this process ten years ago. We’ve treated twenty-three documented cases and to date, there have been no failures, no relapses and no complications. And that’s not including any, like yourself, that won’t make it into any documentation.”

“Then let’s get started.” Lupin said and reached for the buttons of his cardigan.

“And how can we be certain the lycanthropy is gone?” Moody asked.

Sarah held out a phial. “Three drops of blood in there, give it a gently shake and tip it out over this parchment. It’s specifically targeted to lycanthropy, so…?”

“You’ll have an answer fairly quickly.” Michael finished for her.

Four hours and ten minutes later, the man who’d walked into the room as Remus Lupin, turned over a Gringotts’ take-home identity test and read the results.

**_Remington Altair Grimm. (1 April 1978 -)_ **

_Mother – Laura Anne Moody (30 June 1957 – 17 December 1978)_

_Father – Corvus Rigel Grimm (12 February 1954 – 17 December 1978)_

_Godfather – nil_

_Godmother - nil_

“It worked…” The newly named Remington whispered.

“It did.” Moody laid a gentle hand on the now-young boy’s shoulder. “Give me five minutes to finish up with Sarah and Michael and I’ll take you home to your brothers.”

Moody emerged from the floo in his study, with a tired Remington, formerly Remus, draped over his left shoulder.

“Are you going to put me down?” The boy asked. “And what do I call you? And them?”

Moody eased Remington down onto his own feet. “They call me Grampy or Grumpy, depending on the situation.” He took a deep breath. “Paddrick was Sirius Black and Titan was Harry Potter. They call each other ‘Ty’ and ‘Pads’. And I chose Remington for you, so that they could call you Remy.”

“Oh. Alright… Um…? What now…?” Remy asked.

“Now I call the boys in and we see about some dinner. After that…? We’ve got a year before Hogwarts is an issue. In the meantime, I need to see about establishing you three, in people’s minds.”

“You’re going to alter their memories?”

“If I need to, but it’s a last resort. I’d prefer people to think I’m just paranoid and have been keeping you all hidden.” Moody answered. 

Remy blinked. “That would work.”

“It would and so far, it has. Come on, let’s get you settled.” Moody led Remy from the study into a hallway. **_“Boys! Got something for ya! Come on!”_** He yelled.

A thunder of footsteps rumbled from the upstairs hall and the herd of beasts, also known as Ty and Pads, ran down the stairs. The volume far greater than people would expect from just two children.

“Grampy!” The voice was intimately familiar, it was that of the boy that Remy, as Remus, had considered his brother… and who was... now, by blood, his brother.

A few seconds later and two boys came to a screeching halt as they saw a third boy, a third boy that was as much like them as they were like each other.

“Grampy?” The boy with green eyes asked, without actually asking a question.

“You didn’t really think I leave him, or you, without a pack, do you?” Moody smirked.

“Remy!” The pair yelled and darted over to hug their brother.


	11. Chapter 11

_A few seconds later and two boys came to a screeching halt as they saw a third boy, a third boy that was as much like them as they were like each other._

_“Grampy?” The boy with green eyes asked, without actually asking a question._

_“You didn’t really think I leave him, or you, without a pack, do you?” Moody smirked._

_“Remy!” The pair yelled and darted over to hug their brother._

“G-Grampy?” Remy still struggled slightly with seeing Moody as his grandfather, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from asking his question.

“Yeah, Remy?” The older wizard muttered, dragging his attention from the report in front of him, to his new grandson.

“Can you teach us occlumency?”

“Occlumency?”

“Uh-huh. We’re going to Hogwarts next year, unless we can change your mind…?” When Moody shook his head, Remy continued. “Well, it’s just that a werewolf’s mind is protected by their inner wolf and I’m not a werewolf, anymore. And the headmaster and Snape… they’re both Legilimens, they can wander through the students’ minds, whenever they want, and I have to protect my brothers. I can’t let Dumbledore or Snape know who I was... or who Ty and Pads were. I can’t.”

“Right…” Moody sighed. “The problem is that I don’t know whether I _**can**_. Theoretically, your body is too young to take the concepts of occlumency and put them into action, but… you still have your adult memories. And those two points contradict each other.”

“Oh…” Remy sighed, a little disappointed.

“But there is a way around that.” Moody whispered, conspiratorially.

“There is?” Remy’s eye widened.

“Of course. A Knowledge Secret.”

“A what?”

“A Knowledge Secret is a type of Fidelius, but it covers a block of information. And it’s setup differently, the principle is the same, the result is the same, but the method to get there is different and it can have multiple Secret Keepers. All of which are needed to tell someone the secret, either verbally by speaking altogether or by all witnessing one person telling someone or giving someone the written secret and acknowledging their approval.” Moody explained.

“But what if we can’t all be together to tell someone?” Remy asked.

“Verbally, you have no other option. For a written secret, the other secret keepers can pulse their magic into the written secret, with the intent that only the person being told will be able to read the secret. The benefit to doing it this way, is that you can have one piece of parchment and reuse it as many times as you want to pass the secret along, and only the people that you want will be able to read it, to anyone else is will appear to be a random few lines. Usually an excerpt from a book or an address or the start of a letter to someone.”

“Ooh…” Remy gasped. “Can we do that? Please, Grampy? **_Please?”_** Remy begged.

Moody laughed. “You get together with your brothers and work out what’s to be covered by the secret and I’ll cast it for you. On the condition… that the three of you are all secret keepers.”

An hour later and the three boys stood in front of Moody while he cast the charm.

[“ _Notitia est occultatum est quod non_ ... Sirius Orion Black and Harry James Potter are not from this world and along with Remus John Lupin were given new identities. Their names are now Paddrick Magellan Grimm, Titan Aloysius Grimm and Remington Altair Grimm. _Custodes autem isto_ , Remy, Titan and Paddrick. _Ut, inquam, sic erit._ _”_](The%20information%20to%20be%20hidden%20is%E2%80%A6%20Sirius%20Orion%20Black%20and%20Harry%20James%20Potter%20are%20not%20from%20this%20world%20and%20along%20with%20Remus%20John%20Lupin%20were%20given%20new%20identities.%20Their%20names%20are%20now%20Paddrick%20Magellan%20Grimm,%20Titan%20Aloysius%20Grimm%20and%20Remington%20Altair%20Grimm.%20The%20keepers%20of%20this%20secret%20are%20Remy,%20Titan%20and%20Paddrick.%20As%20I%20say,%20so%20it%20shall%20be.)

A soft golden light filled the room and as Moody spoke it condensed and settled on the three boys, slowly seeping into their skin and fading away. Moody blinked and looked at the boys as the last of the glow faded.

“Alright, lads. I know I cast something and the fact that I can’t remember what the something was… tells me that it was a Fidelius of sorts. Will you be telling me what it was?”

“Yes, Grampy.” Remy turned the piece of parchment in his hands, towards each of his brothers, and they pulsed their magic into it, before Remy handed it to Moody. “This should help, Grampy.” He said.

Moody read the few lines and huffed as the knowledge was released back into his mind, he quickly accessed his occlumency and settled the information into a mental picture of the three lads.

“Well, that worked. Good. Who’s for a trip to Fortescue’s for ice-cream?”

The Monday before Halloween, Moody approached Scrimgeour’s office and rapped his walking cane against the doorframe.

“Boss? Can I have a word?”

Scrimgeour raised a brow but nodded. “Come in.” Moody entered, shutting the door behind him and waited for Scrimgeour to enable the privacy wards and lock the door. “What can I do for you?” The director of the DMLE asked.

“It’s a little complicated.” Moody grimaced.

“See if you can uncomplicate it, then.” Came the suggestion.

“Remus Lupin gave us a pile of information about Greyback, enough for me to set some things in motion about removing him.” He held up a hand. “Not killing him, but… you are aware that Sarah Edmondson and Michael Julien came up with a method of… well… de-aging a werewolf back beyond the point that they became infected.” It wasn’t a question.

“I am.” Scrimgeour nodded.

“I believe that we can knock Greyback out long enough to pour the potion down his throat. If we can knock him out using a muggle sedative delivery system, we can de-age him. My sources indicate that he’s a squib outside of being a werewolf, so we wouldn’t be dealing with magic. If we can eliminate his lycanthropy, he’ll be young enough to wipe his memory and insert him into the muggle welfare system as a child with amnesia.” Moody held out a manila folder to Scrimgeour. “I’ve made notes on the types of delivery systems, I'd recommend, and a rough outline of actions. I had planned to approach you about it, in the next month or so, but Robards picked up Silas Crump this morning. He fingered Greyback’s planned location for the next moon.”

“And tomorrow’s the full moon.” Scrimgeour smirked.

“It is. But… my boys are going through their first core growth-spurt and I’m not prepared to leave them, not for more than an hour or two.” Moody warned.

“How old are they?” Scrimgeour was reminded of watching the three boys playing a distorted version of quidditch, with each boy being a cross between chaser, seeker and keeper. Due to the Knowledge Secret he wasn’t aware, anymore, of his part in making them who they were now, and Moody wasn’t a secret keeper.

“They’ll be off to Hogwarts, this coming year.” Moody answered.

“Ah, that I see. Well, you’d best brief Robards or Williamson and let them plan the mission.” Scrimgeour directed.

“Not Williamson, his wife is pregnant and due any day.” Moody corrected. “Robards and Shacklebolt. Give the [òigeachd](youth/kid) a chance to see what’s involved in planning a mission.”

Scrimgeour thought about that for a moment and nodded. “Fair enough. Is that it?”

“No. Like I said, Lupin gave us a heap of information, in exchange for hiding him. After talking it over with Edmondson and Julien, it was decided that the safest thing for Lupin, was to use Edmondson’s process on him and given that he was just four years old when he was bitten, place him with a wizarding family. He’s asked to have Remus Lupin ‘killed’ and that he be allowed to live the rest of his life under the identify he has now.”

“That’s a serious request.” Scrimgeour’s brows rose sharply. “Has he given any reasons why?”

“Oh, yeah.” Moody handed over a sheet of parchment that was divided into four sections. Titled ‘For’ and ‘Against’ Remus, and ‘For’ and ‘Against’ John.

“Good grief.” Scrimgeour muttered as he quickly read the lists. “Is he serious? Is it really that bad? Is it just him or is it like this for werewolves, in general?”

“He’s better off than most wolves, at least he was allowed schooling. Dumbledore took him on as a trial.” Moody frowned. “I understand there was almost an incident, but it was stopped before it got out of hand. He has OWLs and NEWTs, but has spent most of his time since Hogwarts, in the muggle world. In the wizarding world, he’s lower ranked than even a muggleborn, not permitted to work for the Ministry, have a vault at Gringotts or own property. He’d denied medical attention and if Dumbledore hadn’t personally stood as guarantor for him, he’d be denied a wand, too.”

“Merlin…” Scrimgeour sighed. “I didn’t realise it was that bad.”

“It is.” Moody replied.

“What’s involved in ‘killing’ Lupin? And making his current persona, permanent?”

“Killing off Lupin is simple enough.” Moody answered. “We wait for a muggle accident and place a blood-golem, carrying his documentation, into the scene and leave it for the muggles to identify. I can add myself as an emergency contact, so I’d be the one to identify the ‘body’. He’s been jobless for the last six months and his last rental ended in June. The muggles will think that he’s homeless. I’m sure there’ll be something before the end of the year, there always is, come winter.”

“And making his current persona, permanent?”

“Edmondson tells me that converting the identities of our hidden protectees, from temporary to permanent, only requires a setting agent. A single potion. Everything we’ve done to any of our other protectees, is reversable with a reversing potion, or given enough time, will wear off. To make it permanent, requires a setting agent. It writes the changes into their core and genetic blueprint. Nothing can reverse the changes after that.”

“Just one potion? That’s all it takes?” Scrimgeour blinked.

“Just one potion, boss.” Moody confirmed.

“And Lupin gave us enough on Greyback?”

“Between Lupin and Crump, we could probably put him before the Wizengamot and win but getting him there would cost us Aurors. Either injured, dead or turned. Bluntly, boss? It’ll cost us less, in the way of time, personnel and gold, to just remove him.”  
“And without Lupin’s information we wouldn’t be in a position to do that.” Scrimgeour nodded. “Understood. Kill off Remus Lupin and do whatever needs to be done to make his current Id permanent. I’ll even issue a compensation payment. ʛ10,000 to get him established and towards any schooling he may require.”

“That’s very generous, boss, but I’m not sure he wouldn’t prefer to have us make our ‘cure’, available to other werewolves.” Moody warned.

“Is it documented as being successful?”

“It is, but there is a downside and that’s… while it works, it changes the age of the victim and depending on their current age and when they were bitten, that can be a significant difference… We can de-age them to any age, but when the de-aging process reverses itself, it ages them forward ten years. Ten years, exactly. Regardless of how far or how little we took them back, they’ll age forward ten years. Edmondson and Julien can explain it better than I can, boss. You’d be better talking to them.” Moody gave up trying to explain.

“I’ll do just that. But the gold stands. The family that took Lupin weren’t expecting it to be permanent and it takes money to outfit and educate kids these days.” Scrimgeour dropped the privacy wards and unlocked the door. “You brief Robards and… Shacklebolt, was it? And I’ll go find Edmondson.”

“Yes, boss.” Moody stood and headed out into the main office. “Robards!” He called. “Shacklebolt! With me.” He headed for the lockbox.

Moody’s muggle informant rang him at ten minutes to nine on the morning of the 12th of December. There’d been a massive rail accident in the south of London. It was expected that the death toll would be in the high teens or low twenties, with an injury list in the hundreds. A perfect way to kill off Remus Lupin.

The crumpled wrecks that had been carriages, made Moody shudder. How anyone at all had survived, dumbfounded him. It took only a few minutes for him to insert the blood-golem, that the muggles would identify as Remus Lupin, into the wreckage. Then he flashed his badge, that stated he was with a special investigations department (consultant only), based out of Aberdeen and offered his assistance for a few hours, in traffic control or wherever a one-legged man could be of use.

The response from the muggle emergency services was enormous… and fast. It was like nothing Moody had ever seen, not even during the worst of the Voldemort war. There was a heck of a lot his department and St. Mungo's could learn from the muggles. It might be worth seeing if they could get a muggleborn, to do the muggle's emergency training and then return and train the DMLE.

He’d have to provide a copy of the memory to Scrimgeour and make the suggestion.

It took only a few hours for the muggle authorities to identify the golem and Moody was contacted before dark, the same day. He and the boys made a bit of a show when the muggle Aurors, police as Titan called them, arrived on his doorstep to break the news. Moody showed his badge and said that he’d been there, on the day, as he’d been in London, he’d volunteered the few hours he’d had available, but with an artificial leg there wasn’t a lot he could do, physically, other than direct people and traffic.

The police stated that Lupin (the golem) was unrecognisable and that he had been identified by his documentation and one of the firemen who'd been on scene, had lived next door to him for a while and had confirmed the identification. But as Moody was registered as Lupin’s emergency contact, it will be up to him to organise whatever funeral rites Lupin would have wanted. Moody replied that Lupin had been an atheist and that a service of remembrance after a cremation, would have been his preferred choice.

The police said that given the damage to Lupin’s body, they were very sorry, but the coroner’s office had already had the body cremated. His ashes could be collected from Her Majesty’s Coroner’s Office in Battersea, any time after midday on Friday.

It took a few more platitudes from the police, some fake tears from the boys and admission from Moody that he’d been hiring Lupin during the summers to watch the boys while he was at work, before the police left.

Moody looked at the boys as the door closed behind the police.

“Now I have to tell Dumbledore.” He grumbled.

“Good luck, Grumpy.” All three boys sang.

Albus Dumbledore sat in his lovely office, surrounded by pretty things, debating his next move. Playing chess against Minerva was a time consuming and stressful pastime, but he thoroughly enjoyed it. While he debated, he wrote out another invitation, the Board of Governors having given permission for him to invite guests to the Christmas feast.

Granted, he’d have to invite the governors, but other than Lucius Malfoy, that was no hardship, and Malfoy had been cleared under _veritaserum_ , of willingly following Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle. Such a waste of life. Such a waste of magic. He could have been the greatest Minister for Magic that the wizarding world had ever seen, instead he turned to torture and murder. How many lives had he taken? How many were taken on his command? And how many more were destroyed?

Such a waste.

But Tom’s action of attacking the Potters and subsequent the trial of Lucius Malfoy and many other ‘known’ Death-Eaters, under _veritaserum_ , proved that complacency couldn’t be allowed, as many were found to be not in control of their own minds. Trials and _veritaserum_ were now mandatory for any crime greater than petty theft. Mind altering potions could only be brewed by a licenced apothecary or potions Master and only be applied by a St Mungo's registered healer. The illegal brewing of lust or love potions could net the brewer anything from a significant fine to prison time. While the application of prohibited potions, had the administrator, if not registered with St Mungo's, barred, their memories locked and possibly imprisoned. But the instigator? The intent to use mind altering potions on a person, with or without their consent, without a St Mungo’s certificate, would land the planner in Azkaban. No exceptions.

Albus had been forced to have a word with Molly Weasley, she’d been one of the most vocal objectors of the new laws. At least until Albus revealed that Voldemort had been born under such a potion and that the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers’ research had revealed that children conceived under the influence of mind altering potions were, while usually quite intelligent, completely incapable of feeling affection and love, as such emotions were actively inhibited during said conception. After hearing this, Molly had backed down, but had suggested a variance to the law, those in arranged marriages and unbreakable betrothals, would be given the opportunity to take low-level doses, strong enough to remove animosity and engender a degree of affection, sufficient to allow the marriage to be consummated and children conceived. Otherwise such people would likely attempt to breach their contracts and that could lead to a loss of their magic or their lives. Still, such dosages required healer administration and certification.

But it was, at least, resolved, now.

All Albus had to do today, was to decide whom to invite to the Christmas feast. He needed new teachers, for the coming school year and inviting them to the feast would give him the opportunity to broach the subject. He had to find at least three Professors, possibly a fourth. DADA, of course. Perhaps it might be advisable to consult a curse-breaker? Then there was Muggle Studies, it would probably be a wise move to have a muggleborn, or at least a muggle-raised, take that class. The astronomy class had complained about their Professor, if Professor Harding couldn’t stay awake to teach, what use was he? And as always, there were complaints about Binns. Maybe it was time to let him move on?

As he contemplated whether or not to advertise the positions, he floo lit up and a voice sounded.

“Albus? Albus, are you there? It’s Moody, I need a word.”

Albus, hurried over and replied. “Of course, Alastor, come through.” The Senior Auror could be just what he needed, he’d make an excellent DADA Professor, if only he could get permission.

Moody stepped from the flames and his magical eye swirled around the room, looking for any potentially negative magics.

“Have a seat, Alastor, and please explain, what can I do for you?” Albus twinkled at the scarred Scotsman.

“I had a visit from the muggle police this morning.” Moody started, only to be cut off.

“Pole-lease? What are pole-lease and why would they be visiting you?” Albus ask curiously.

“Police. P-O-L-I-C-E, Albus. They’re the muggle version of Aurors.”

“Ah… Yes, of course. I see, thank you. And the reason for their visit?”

“There was a… rail accident in the south of London, this morning. Over thirty dead and nearly five hundred injured. You’d best check your students, some of the muggle-raised may have had family members involved.” Moody said.

“Oh, my.” Albus’ mouth opened in shock. “Buy why would the muggle Aurors come to you?”

“Remus Lupin was killed, and I’ve been his emergency contact in the muggle world. I enlisted his help to see my boys through their summers.” Moody answered.

“Oh… How… How did he…?” Albus didn’t know if he should ask.

“Blunt force trauma to the back of the head, killed him instantly, then as the muggles were clearing the wreckage one of the carriages collapsed and crushed his body. Bad enough that the coroners had the body cremated immediately after being identified. I’ll go into London on Friday and pick up the ashes. He had few friends in the muggle world and fewer in the magical world, so, I’m thinking a small service at [Pentre Ifan](sacred%20megalithic%20burial%20site%20in%20Wales), come Saturday.”

Albus nodded. “How are… your boys holding up?” He frowned. “ ** _Who_** are your boys?”

“Me grandsons.” Moody answered. “I don’t think it’s sunk in yet and I’m not sure it will for a while. Lupin’s not usually around 'til summer holidays.”

“Grandsons?” Albus blinked. “I wasn’t aware you were married, let alone had children or grandchildren.” He chided gently.

“My private life is just that. Mine and private. But to sate your unending curiosity… Jessica died in ’79 and we only had one child. Laura died in '78, the same day as her husband, they lived in Liverpool.” Moody girt his teeth.

“In '78? The muggle explosions?” Albus asked, understanding the incidence Moody was referencing.

“Yes, five cities were bombed, and a dozen building blown up. A deliberate terrorist attack by the IRA. Laura and Corvus were the only deaths and thanks to Potter, Black, Longbottom, Leacher and the two Bones’, I managed to retrieve Laura and Corvus’ bodies and keep them off the muggle lists.”

“And how old were the boys?”

“Eight months.” Moody sighed. “Jessica and I took them in, and we intended to raise them ourselves. But it wasn’t to be. Jessie was killed in the Woolworth’s fire in Manchester, the next May. In the space of a little over five months, my wife, daughter and son-in-law were dead, and I was literally left holding the baby, or in my case **_babies_**. Three of them. Paddrick, Remington and Titan. Triplets.”

“Oh… Oh, I am so sorry, Alastor.” Albus sighed.

“Me, too. But they’ll be coming here next year, Albus, and I’ve been meaning to drop in and check they’re on your registry.”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

“They weren’t born in the UK, Laura and Corvus were holidaying in Spain when she went into labour.” Moody answered.

“Ah… well, why don’t we check? Are you sure they’re magical?”

“Oh Gods, yes. Ty was doing accidental magics before he was an hour old, Remy and Pads only minutes behind him. Ty obviously thought the room was too bright, as he extinguished all the lights. Remy mustn’t have liked the noise, as he silenced the room and Pads didn’t like whatever the medi-witch was doing and banished the cloth she was using on him.” Moody chuckled.

Albus smiled at the mental picture Moody’s description gave him. “Well then, we’d best check and see if they're enrolled. If they’re not, we can always add them manually.” The Headmaster headed from his upper office down to the main office floor and the dome-covered brass orrery model. Once there, he tapped his wand on the Hogwarts’ crest and tapped it with his wand. A compartment opened and a drawer slid out, exposing a group of ancient books, only one of which was open. “Now, let’s see, shall we…? Enrolments for 1989.” He flipped a few pages. “Ah, here we are… Alastor? I didn’t think to ask. What are their names?”

“Paddrick Grimm, Remington Grimm and Titan Grimm.” Moody answered.

“An unusual name, one I’m not familiar with…”

“An ancestor was a squib, The Lord Black at the time was Phineas Nigellus, he disowned the young lad, from the House of Black and planned to abandon the boy in the muggle world. But the lad’s brother and cousins smuggled out his trust vault and converted it to muggle money and changed the lad’s name from Black to Grimm. A nod to his brother’s Animagus form. When the lad married another pureblood squib, his cousins were delighted and even more delighted when their only child, a son, turned out to be a wizard. The brother suggested keeping the young wizard out of Hogwarts, fearing that if the new Lord Black found out about him, the reaction could be violent.” Moody explained.

“Oh, yes, I can see most of the Blacks taking out their frustrations on a squib’s son. Sometimes I wonder how young Sirius escaped the Black madness.” Albus shook his head, then paused. “Ah, here we go… Forester… Grant… Grimm… Paddrick, Remington and Titan. Excellent.” Albus beamed over at Moody.

“Good, one less worry. When can we expect their letters?” Moody asked.

“Letters are usually sent the first week after the end of the school year. However, seeing as you are here… I can see to their letters and accept confirmation of their enrolment, if you wish? It would allow you to get their books and supplies, ahead of the start of term rush.” Albus offered.

“That’d be handy.” Moody nodded.

Later that evening, Moody handed the boys a sheet of parchment each and reached for a bread knife. “Here we are. Your book lists.”

“Brilliant, Grampy.” Ty beamed at his grandfather. “Me and Pads were thinking…”

“Oh, great…” Moody muttered. “This’ll be good.”

“Grumpy…” Paddrick huffed.

“Alright, what did you pair come up with, this time?” Moody sighed.

“We want to raid the Room of Requirement.” Titan answered.

“The Room of… What?” Moody stopped cutting up a loaf of bread and turned to the boys.

“The Room of Requirement. It’s up on the seventh floor, opposite Barnabas the Barmy. It’s… it’s kinda hard to explain, it can be anything we want it to be, but left on its own, it’s the storage room for anything lost, abandoned or discarded by staff or students.” Titan answered. “We were thinking that we’d sort through it once we got there, then Remy asked about the books and Pads about money and we figured why wait? We can pop up and raid it and be gone without anyone knowing, if we went over Christmas.”

“We could get all the books, gold and trunks from the Room. Then spend the first half of next year sorting through them and the last of the wizard-space frames. We could put together decent libraries for ourselves.” Remy added.

“We could also build study-trunks and sell them to the OWL and NEWT students.” Pads suggested. “Or rent them.”

“Bring me a business proposal for the trunks and a mission briefing for the Room raid. Once I’ve read them, we’ll talk.” Moody said.


	12. Chapter 12

_“We were thinking that we’d sort through it once we got there, then Remy asked about the books and Pads about money. We can pop up and raid it and be gone without anyone knowing, if we went over Christmas.”_

_“We could get all the books,_ _gold_ _and trunks from the Room. Then spend the first half of next year sorting through them and the last of the wizard-space frames. We could put together decent libraries for ourselves.” Remy added._

_“We could also build study-trunks and sell them to the OWL and NEWT students.” Pads suggested. “Or rent them.”_

_“Bring me a proposal for the trunks and a mission briefing for the Room raid. Once I’ve read them, we’ll talk.” Moody said._

“Alright.” Moody laid the bundle of parchment down on the table. “The business plan for the study-trunks is fair. It needs some polishing, but the basis is sound. The mission planning for the Room is excellent. I’m not certain about accessing Filch’s office, but I’ll grant that having the extra copy of the marauders’ map could come in handy. Same for this world's Potter/Peverell invisibility cloak, but I’m not pleased about how you plan to get it. Personally, I’d go straight to option three… brooms and summoning the cloak from outside his personal chambers. You’ve got a higher chance of success, doing that.”

The three boys nodded, and Remy made a few notes.

“Outside that? Fine.” Moody nodded. “The mission is approved. A few minor details we’ll need to refine between now and Christmas. But it’s a go. I’ll spread the word that I’m taking you three abroad for the Christmas break. We’ll infiltrate Hogwarts at the same time as the students are leaving the grounds for the express. Spend three to five nights in Hogwarts’ Room of Requirement, while we sort through the books, trunks, gold and associated items.”

The three boys gave one loud cheer and then were instantly paying attention.

“Titan. You’re in charge of trunks, spaces and storage units. Prep your tent. Find the largest indoor wizard-space you have, we’re going to need it as a warehouse. In the meantime, I want you to make shelving, multiple types. One for shrinkable trunks, one for non-shrinkable trunks, one for wizard-space frames and another for boxes but leave room for free-standing cabinets.”

“Yes, Grampy.” Titan nodded.

“Remy. You’re in charge of books and shelving for them. Sort through the wizard-spaces and find one, or more, that you can use as storage. Fill them with shelving, initially sorting is not a concern, you just need to get the books stored, you can sort back here.”

“Yes, Grampy.” Remy nodded.

“Paddrick. You’re in charge of gold, silver and jewellery. Not ʛalleons, but gold and silver and anything made from them. You know how to identify an item’s composition and a rough value. Find yourself a storage space and fill it with more shelving and tubs. Jewellery, gems, ingots, goblets, candlesticks, you name it, if it’s gold… or silver, grab it.”

“Yes, Grampy.” Pads beamed.

“Don’t forget to apply your detection charms. If you think anything is cursed, put it aside, if I can’t deal with it, we’ll hire a curse-breaker. I’ll handle the ʛalleons and any other money that’s there. Along with any weapons, armour, potions supplies and anything belonging to the Blacks, the Potters, the Lupins or Lily Evans.”

“Yes, Grampy.” The three boys said together.

“Hold up.” Moody said as he and the three boys edged up the Grand Tower’s staircase. “Check me on this?” He pointed at the map, over Paddrick's shoulder, at a room almost opposite the DADA classroom.

“Room of… Lost Wands?” Paddrick answered, reading the room’s tag.

“That’s what I thought.” Moody answered. “Ty, add it to my list. I’ll empty that before we leave.”

“Yes, Grampy.” Titan nodded and pulled out a notepad and pencil.

“Move out.” Moody ordered and the little procession began to move.

When they reached the seventh floor, Moody turned to Titan. “All yours, Ty. Lead the way.”

Titan lead them down a long corridor and around the corner, pointing at a tapestry of a man waving a conductor’s baton at six trolls wearing tutus.

“Wait here.” Ty directed and kept walking towards the inner wall of the castle keep. He stopped and took a few deep breaths, focusing on what he wanted from the Room.

“The Room of lost, abandoned or discarded things.” He whispered. “The Room of lost, abandoned or discarded things. The Room of lost, abandoned or discarded things.” With the first sentence he walked along the wall, turning and retracing his steps with the next and again with the third. As he reached the end of the sentence, a door began to appear, small and nondescript, it appeared to be nothing more than a broom closet.

“There we go.” He smiled and turned to his brothers and grandfather. All three wore stunned expressions. “What?” Ty demanded. “You all saw my memories. You know about the Room.”

“Knowing or seeing in a pensieve is one thing, pup.” Moody muttered. “Seeing in real life is another.”

“Grampy…” Ty sighed.

“Alright, I doubted, okay. I’m sorry. Let’s get inside before Filch or his bloody cat spot us.” The older wizard grumbled.

“Yes, Grumpy.” The three boys sighed, they knew he cared and that his ‘caring’ came out as negative scenarios.

Ty opened the door and lead them into the junk room to end all junk rooms.

“Sweet mother of Merlin.” Moody whispered.

“Yeah.” Ty agreed. “Let’s make camp over here.” He wandered over to a small cleared area along the wall, a few feet from the door, and pulled a small box from his satchel, laying the box on the ground he tapped the tip of the front pole of what appeared to be a model of a tent. The model stretched and enlarged until it was a full-size d tent. “There we go.”

“How are we doing this? Order of attack, I mean?” Pads asked.

“Ty?” Moody grunted.

“I think we should get our wizard-space frames out and fix them to his wall.” Ty patted his hand on the wall beside the tent. “Then work through one pile at a time. One person levitates the pile into the air and opens it out a bit, that would allow the rest of us to summon items from the pile. Form them into smaller piles, at least until we know if any of them are cursed, jinxed or hexed. At the end of the day, if a simple _finite_ will fix the issue, we can add that to the un-hexed stuffed, otherwise all hexed or cursed stuff goes into a wiz-space for Grampy to assess, once we get home.”

“Good idea.” Moody said.

“When we finish each pile, the un-hexed stuff is transferred straight to the relevant wiz-space. Then we move onto the next pile. We can either take it in turns to levitate the piles or one person can do it until they begin to feel tired, then another person takes over.” Paddrick said.

“Take turns.” Remy corrected. “That was no gets too tired and everyone gets a break.”

“I’ll take the first pile.” Moody ordered. “Get your wiz-spaces and set ‘em up.”

It took the boys all of five minutes to be ready to start. Paddrick had taken a chair from the nearest pile and transfigured it into a large half-barrel, to hold the items he would be summoning. Remy had taken a set of shelves from his wiz-space and slid them out ready to receive a load of books. Titan had watched and done the same with a trio of shelves of different dimensions. Moody had transfigured some chairs into more half-barrels and pushed them off to one side.

“I’d say the first few piles are going to be mostly furniture. We’ll go through them quickly now and when you three come in September, you can sort through them properly and see what’s repairable and what’s only good for firewood.” Moody said.

“Yes, Grampy.”

“Ready?” Moody asked, letting a wand fall into each hand.

“Yes, Grampy.”

“[ _Wingardium leviosa_](levitation%20charm).” He pointed one wand at the pile of… stuff and once it was floating, he pointed the second wand at it. “[ _Tardius separabit_](separate%20slowly).” As he spoke each item in the pile began to separate from the others, a small amount of free space forming around it. “In the case of furniture, it’s not as important to create a little breathing space, but when you’re working with small or tightly packed items, you need that space to summon things. Otherwise any item summoned, is likely to be blocked by those around it.” Moody lectured. “When you summon each type of item, don’t forget to point to where you want the items to end up.”

“Yes, Grampy.” The three boys replied, they were getting used to the older wizard parting with these small nuggets of information at different times. Each evening, he would check if they’d picked up on what had been said and Remy would write it in an index book for them.

Two minutes later, Moody let the pile slide back into its former position and the four moved to the next pile.

“Grampy?” Paddrick asked.

“Yeah, Pads?”

“We’re going to have to move camp, aren’t we? As we go?”

“Initially, maybe, but as we get further in and take more stuff out, we’ll be able to transfer stuff from one pile to another, that will free up some space.” Moody answered.

“Oh, okay, didn’t think about that.” Paddrick blinked.

“That’s why you have me and your brothers. We pick up on the things you miss, and you pick up on the things we miss. That’s what teams do, cover each other’s backs.”

“Yes, Grampy.” Paddrick beamed at him.

“Alright, who’s next?”

“Me, Grampy.” Remy held up a hand.

“Good lad. Come stand over here, you’ll want two wands out. Levitate with one, then once things are up separate with the other. Hold until we each call ‘clear’. Got it?”

“Yes, Grampy.” Remy nodded, a small frown sitting on his face as he concentrated.

Four days it took them to go through each pile of stuff in the Room, to go through each alcove, to check every nook and cranny. All four of them were exhausted, while the tent was a godsend, it was still a tent and they all were looking forward to going home.

“Wand room, Dumbledore’s quarters and Filch’s office and we’re done.” Moody sighed.

“I vote wands first.” Titan said. “Work our way down.”

“Huh… yeah… that sounds about right. Alright, who’s on recon?”

“Me, Grampy.” Paddrick held up the Marauders’ Map where it could be seen. “There’s no one in the upper levels, we’re clear down to third floor of the Keep.”

“Excellent. Ty, Remy? You’re point, alternate by floor.”

“Yes, Grampy.” The two boys exchanged a speaking look and Remy moved to the front.

“I’ll see that the Room is closed, Grampy.” Titan said in answer to his grandfather’s look.

Ten minutes and the room that had stored the lost wands was empty. Even the shelving had been shrunk and slid into a wiz-space. Then brooms were pulled out and disillusion charms were placed. The four flew out a window and down a level to the Headmaster’s office.

“Grampy?” Titan whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Where are the Headmaster’s private quarters? Does anyone actually know?”

“I’d expect them to be connected to his office.” Moody replied.

“But you’re not sure?”

“No, I’ve had no call to visit them or a valid reason to ask.”

“Ty? Try a point-me on Dumbledore's night-cap. Or his bed-socks.” Remy suggested. “That should point us to his bedroom, at least.”

“Should we try and summon the cloak from here?” Paddrick asked. “It might be in his office.”

The four were huddled together, floating about forty feet in the air, debating the merits of office, over personal quarters.

“That’s a good call, Pads.” Moody nodded. “We’ll try that first. I want you three to pull out a wand, each. Good, now, hold them all together.” It took a little manoeuvring to get into a position where all three boys were holding all three wands, as one. “Good. Take a deep breath on and my ‘go’, cast the summoning charm, for the Peverell invisibility cloak.” He waited until the three boys took a deep breath and nodded. “One.” He held up a finger. “Two.” Two fingers. “Three.’ Three fingers. “GO.” He snapped his hand out straight and pointed it sharply at the window of the Headmaster’s office.

“ _Accio_ Peverell invisibility cloak.” Three young voice spoke as one.

No one was surprised to see the cloak float out of the window and across to flutter in front of the held-together wands.

“Excellent. Do it again, this time all Potter possessions.”

Again, the boys chanted and again thing flew towards them, Moody opening a satchel from the Room to catch them. The auto-shrinking charms having to work hard on a couple of pieces of large furniture.

“Again. Black possessions.”

Again, they chanted. Again, Moody played catcher, but this time he only caught books and a few phials of memories.

“Again, Peverell possessions.”

And again.

“Lupin possessions.”

And again.

“Lily Evans’ possessions.”

A few more books fluttered through the air and were quickly swept up into the satchel.

“Good work. Still want to try for the Marauders’ Map?” Moody asked.

“Yes, please, Grampy.” Pads nodded.

“Alright, around to the caretaker’s tower.” Moody sighed. He wasn’t convince getting the map now was important, but the boys had their hearts set on it and who was he to deny them?

“Alright lads. You’ve each got your own sorting to do. Sort, label and store, you can work out uses later.” Moody directed.

“Yes, Grampy.” The three boys nodded.

“I want you each to keep an eye out for things for school, though. Trunks, books, equipment, that sort of thing.”

“Yes, Grampy.”

“Titan. Make up three trunks, one for each of you. Maximum capacity, with three compartments. One at ten-by-ten. One at five-by-eight. And the third at twenty-by-thirteen. First compartment is to be storage, put in lots of shelving, you’ll need it to cover potions equipment for class, your telescopes, your brooms and anything else non-academic. The second compartment is to be set up as a walk-in wardrobe, hanging spaces, drawers and some shelving. I suggest you set up the third compartment as a library. If your head of house calls you on it, a library is the least worrying thing a firstie could have. I’ll place a Fidelius on the fact that you have wiz-space frames in that compartment.” Moody began. “For the wiz-spaces? Put in a bathroom, I remember what the Gryffindor bathrooms were like. A bedroom, who know what your dormmates are like?”

“I do. There should only be four of them, Ken Towler, Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins.” Titan cut in.

“And do you know how bad they snore?” Moody asked rhetorically.

“Uh… no… not Ken and Lee, but neither of the twins snore.”

“Best to be prepared, regardless. If you don’t use it, it doesn’t matter, but if you don’t have it, you’ll need it. Bathroom, bedroom, a potions lab and an exercise area.” Moody repeated and Titan obediently wrote the list on a whiteboard.

“Remy. You’ve got the libraries. One each, start at first year and work your way up to mastery level. Maximum 10,000 books. Nothing dark or restricted by the Ministry, just general books. We’ll set up a separate dedicated library trunk, later, for the more… restricted books. Sorting, cataloguing and priority charms are standard in most libraries, so try and find shelving that already has them embedded. You’ll have to work with Ty on setting up the libraries in the trunks, I’d like the shelves to be retractable or on hinged covers for the wiz-spaces.’

“Yes, Grampy.” Remy nodded and made some notes on his own whiteboard.

“Paddrick. You’re in charge of the potions labs and filling in all the details. Stock the labs with equipment, ingredients and anything relevant. Stock the library with stationery, ink, quills, fountain pens, wax and all the other little incidentals you’re going to need. Stock and furnish the bedrooms. The bathrooms. And the wardrobes.”

“Yes, Grampy.” Paddrick nodded, but all he wrote on his board was ‘everything else’.

Seeing this the others shook their heads in amusement.

“Your eleventh birthdays are tomorrow, lads. Any requests?”

The three boys grinned. “Can we go to the zoo, Grampy?” Paddrick asked.

“Which one?” Moody frowned, not certain he wanted to know.

“Highland Wildlife Park in Kingussie.” Remy answered.

“Titan?” Moody squinted at the still silent boy.

“They’ve got wolves and tigers and lynxes and leopards and polar bears and eagles and owls and hawks.” Titan tried to explain without actually explaining.

“I’ll take you to the zoo… but my decision stands. I will not allow you to take the animagi potion until your cores are stable. Two more years, two more core growth-spurts, that might be done by summer after second year.”

The three looked at each other. “Bugger.” They said.

“Boys, you’ve done all the meditations, all the charms and taken the animagi identification potion. You still have a huge amount of research to do, before you get to the mandrake leaf stage. Just remember, you have to hold that in your mouth for a lunar month, twenty-eight days.” Moody reminded them.

“Ugh… forgot about that…” Paddrick whined.

“We’ll help you, Pads.” Remy whispered to his brother.

Paddrick looked at Titan. “I love you, but sometimes I miss Prongs.”

“Me, too.” Titan looked just as miserable.

“Me, three.” Remy added. “He made some things so easy.”

“In the meantime, lads, you’ve need to think up a new name for the pack and pack-names for each other.”

“Yes, Grumpy…” The boys sighed.

“Lads… It’s not about controlling you.” Moody sighed and tried to explain. “It’s not about restricting you. It’s about keeping you safe and healthy. The animagi transformation along with the patronus charm are two of the most advanced pieces of magic that can be performed by one person. Them, the Fidelius, the Cruciatus and the Killing Curse are the top five. They all require a massive amount of control, but they also require a stable core. In de-aging someone physically, their core is also de-aged, as is the physical aspect of their brain, which explains why you three are able to act with maturity, but only for a short length of time. Even if that is longer than most children your physical age. Having a de-aged core is not necessarily what either you or I wanted, but it doesn’t stop you from being capable of doing 99.9% of magic that an adult can do. The reason for that capability is your control. Control of your emotions and magic is an ephemeral thing, just like memories. It has no physical base. It’s intangible.”

“…ooohhh…” The three boys breathed an exclamation.

“Exactly. Apparating, transfiguring, conjuring, summoning, banishing… children can do all of these with accidental magic. An adult de-aged to ten years old is just as capable as a fifty-year-old, when it comes to these. They have the same amount of control, probably more. But… the five spells I mentioned, they require a stable core and physically that doesn’t happen until after the third core-growth spurt. For _**most**_ teenagers, that happens sometime between fourteen and seventeen, for de-aged adults, however, it’s a bit earlier. Twelve to thirteen, usually. The fact that Harry Potter managed to cast a corporeal patronus at thirteen is a surprise, but then the Potters did have a reputation for early core-stability.”

“…ooohhh…”

“So, it comes down to this… If I say I don’t want you doing something, I will give a reason. If that reason is magical or core related, there will be no arguments, you _**won’t**_ be doing it. You trusted your safety and wellbeing to me, now you have to trust me to follow through and keep you safe.” Moody said.

“Yes, Grampy.” The three boys said and came to hug their grandfather.

“Zoo tomorrow. Before or after Gringotts?”

“Why do we have to go to Gringotts?” Paddrick asked.

“I haven’t been able to set up trust vaults for you, mostly due to your age. Gringotts are insisting on you having identity tests. Which is annoying but expected.” Moody answered.

The goblin studied the three boys, one by one, before focusing on Titan.

“Mr Granger, we meet again. No glamours, I see, but your appearance is not the same, nor is your age.” The goblin frowned.

“I didn’t lie, everything I told you was true, except for my name.” Titan assured the goblin. “But circumstances have changed... again.”

“In what way?”

“These three young men, for reasons not of their own making have been placed into a very dangerous situation and the DMLE has become involved. The three have been permanently de-aged and given new identities. These changes are irreversible. This young man,” Moody placed a hand on Titan’s shoulder, “was not aware of the depth of the situation when he attended Gringotts in May. In fact, the situation wasn’t revolved until mid-December.”

“And how is that going to impact of pre-existing Family Inheritances?”

“Titan’s original Family are listed as deceased and their assets have already been dispersed. Paddrick,” Moody moved his hand from Titan’s shoulder to Paddrick’s, “was disowned by his parents when he was sixteen and was declared dead to the family at twenty-one, any assets that he might have had would have been reclaimed at that time.” The goblin nodded as Moody explained. “Remy,” Moody’s hand moved to Remy’s shoulder, “was a werewolf and had few assets in the wizarding world.”

“ ** _Was_** a werewolf?” The goblin demanded. “You have a cure?”

“Not exactly a cure, but a way of reversing the disease. De-aging will remove it, but once a de-aging potion wears off, the victim will be re-aged by ten years, regardless of how far they had been de-aged. If they’re ten and de-age by one year, they will still end up nineteen, that can be corrected with a second de-aging potion, of course. However, if they were forty and de-aged to six, they will end sixteen and there's no safe way of aging them up, again. It’s something to do with how the de-aging potion reacts to the disease. The potions master didn’t explain the exact reasoning of why, just how to get the end result and what to expect.”

“Ah, I see. And these identities are permanent, you said?”

“Yes. All three were involved and given multiple chances to reject the proposal, but all three accepted and are now my grandsons.” Moody knew this was skirting close to the edge of the Knowledge Secret, but as long as the lads’ previous names weren’t mentioned, close was fine. He could get away with close.

“And their names, prior?”

“I can’t tell you that. Steps have been taken to ensure that their prior identities remain _Secret_.” He placed some emphasis on the word ‘Secret’.

“Ah.” The goblin said, again. “I see, that makes sense. Mr… Titan, was it?” Titan nodded. “Titan. Are you still using the exchange pouch?”

“Yes, sir.” Titan opened his satchel and lifted out the pouch in question.

“Good, place it on the table. Once you’ve had an identity test, I will close your previous application down, open your vault and re-issue the pouch, attaching the copy of your spell-chain, to your vault file. I also suggest completing all three tests today, identity, inheritance and propriety. We wouldn’t want to miss anything, now would we?” The goblin gave a vicious grin and tapped a sigil etched into the desk’s surface.

“Yeah, that’d be smart.” Moody grunted.

Ten minutes later, the three lads studied the results.

“Pretty much as we expected, Grampy.” Remy said. “No vaults to inherit.”

Why would there be, Harry Potter and Sirius Black had been dead for eight years. Of course, any possible estates would have already been parcelled out. And Titan figured that Lady Magic had done all She could, in bringing Harry Potter and Sirius Black to a world at peace, now it was up to them to live in it.

“Propriety tests indicates that the three young wizards have a limited amount of ʛalleons and draughts on them, but it only allows for monies held within a Gringotts approved container or for property registered with the Ministry or Gringotts. If they have monies or draughts elsewhere, our testing will not show it.” The goblin reminded them.

“They do, what they have on them is only spending money and emergency reserves.” Moody commented.

“A wise precaution.” The goblin held up three keys. “Paddrick Grimm.” He handed Paddrick a key. “Mr Remington Grimm.” Remy was handed a key. “Mr Titan Grimm.” He handed Titan the last key. “Will copies be required for any of these?”

“No, but linked pouches will be. More for deposits than anything else. They have small signature-bonded coin purses for spending money.” Moody answered.

“Will the other gentlemen be requiring exchange pouches?”

“Not at this time.” Remy answered.

“But do you have a way for us to have gems and jewellery in our vaults assessed and valued?” Paddrick asked.

“We do. It’s a relatively new service and only for vault holders.” The goblin tapped another sigil and a portion of the desk opened, the goblin reached into the desk and retrieved a small book. “This is a Vault Itemisation Index. Every item within the linked vault is listed in this booklet.” He opened the book and began to show them the various details. “As you can see the contents page lists the types of items. Each list gives a number of items and an approximate value of the entire category. You simply tap a heading and turn the page and the selected category will move to the front of the book.” He showed them each step by example. “Each category will have a sub-contents page, for example, the main contents page may list jewellery, the sub-contents page will list different types of jewellery, rings, earrings, necklaces, sets, etc. Tap a sub-contents page and that sub-category with also move forward, within the category. Each page will list one item, at the top of the page will be an image, usually a wizarding photograph with 360° views, however, portraits, paintings and property listings, have different images. Below the image will be a title and owner, if either are known, followed by a description of the item. Below that will be a series of boxes that cover components, valuation, recommendation, disposal and applied magics. If you wish to dispose of an item, you simply pulse your magic into the selected box and Gringotts with see to your wishes.” He returned to the front of the book. “As you can see, it also lists ʛalleons, §ickles and κnuts. If you select the ʛalleons category, you can see the last ten ʛalleon transactions on your vault. You can transfer ʛalleons to a prenominated vault by tapping one of the Gringotts’ keys symbols. Or to a prenominated coin pouch by tapping the ʛalleons logo.” He laid the book down on the desk. “These indexes are bound to you, by blood and magical signature. You are required to pulse your magic into the cover to open the index. To transfer or dispose of an item, you will be required to do the same again, however, for the disposal of any item over ʛ10 or the transfer of more than ʛ10, you will be required to press a finger into the sigil on the cover and pulse your magic into it, it will also take a sample of you blood to confirm. If there are any mind-altering potions or charms detected, the transfer or disposal with be denied and, as you are underage, your nominated guardian will be notified, immediately. This notification is usually by way of an alarm, be it silent or audible, through their own coin pouch, if they have one linked to a vault. If they don’t, then an owl will be sent. The other option is to allow your guardian a read-only index, they can view your decision and make recommendations, and approve or reject a decision, but not make independant transactions.”

“Lads?” Moody raised a brow.

“Yes, please.” All three boys spoke together.

“Very good.” The goblin said. “I recommend this type of coin purse,” He help up what looked like a muggle zippered wallet. “As you can see, it’s based on a muggle wallet, but with magical variations, once the closure is opened, you can see a number of pockets. One for the index, one for draughts, one for ʛalleons, one for §ickles and one for κnuts. Simply pulse your magic into a sigil, one of these here,” there were four sigils on the inside of the opening, “and state the amount clearly and, assuming you have the funds in your vault, the amount will be withdrawn from your vault and be transferred to the appropriate pocket. It will not exchange §ickles or κnuts for ʛalleons, or vice versa.”

The three boys nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Excellent.” The goblin produced three black coin purses and after a split second to look at the boys, each one changed. The trim on one became, a rich golden brown, one became a light grey and the third became a dark forest green. “These have similar security on them to the indexes, place your key halfway into the purse and place your finger on the Gringotts’ sigil and pulse your magic into them. From now on, no one but yourself will be able to open or access the purse.” The boys all complied, and each purse flared with a burst of golden light. “Excellent. Allow me to recap. Identity tests are complete, vaults are commissioned, indexes are linked, and new coin purses are bonded. And Mr Titan Grimm has transferred an exchange pouch from unverified to verified, paid in advance. Is there anything else I can assist you with, today?”

Moody studied the ceiling while he thought. “No. No, that’s pretty much-”

“Grampy?” Titan asked. “What about a pouch to put artefacts into our vaults. Gems, jewellery, stuff like that. I picked up a bracelet on the beach, yesterday.”

“Ah, we do have those, just a moment.” The goblin dug into a drawer and emerged with a small drawstring pouch. “Here we are. These work similar to mokeskin, but instead of the item shrinking, the pouch opening enlarges, not the pouch itself, just the opening. And not large enough for furntire, but caertainly enough for a portrait or candlestick. Again, place your key halfway into the pouch and your finger on the sigil, pulse into both.”

Again, keys were produced and magic pulsed.

“Excellent. Anything else?”

“Nope, that’s it.” Titan answered for them.

“Excellent.” The goblin said again. “Total cost for each young man, will be… ʛ99, §11 κ9. I am assuming, of course, that like Mr Titan with his exchange pouch, the young men will be paying the total cost of the pouches and indexes, in advance instead of monthly instalments. Given their ages, this is by far the cheaper option in the long term.”

“We will.” Titan nodded. He handed over a ʛ100 draught and accepted the change. Paddrick and Remy doing exactly the same.

“Excellent. Gentlemen, good day. And I wish you all a profitable birthday.” The goblin nodded to them and withdrew from the office, through a small door off to one side.

“Excellent, indeed.” Paddrick grinned. “Zoo, anyone?”


	13. Chapter 13

_“Excellent. Gentlemen, good day. And I wish you all a profitable birthday.” The goblin nodded to them and withdrew from the office, through a small door off to one side._

_“Excellent, indeed.” Paddrick grinned. “Zoo, anyone?”_

“Try not to destroy the school.” Moody called as the train began to move.

“No promises!” Two boys yelled back, while a third just laughed.

“Oh, dear, that doesn’t sound too promising…” Margaret ‘Molly’ Weasley commented from a few feet away.

“Better than I expected.” Moody grunted.

“Alastor Moody, isn’t it?” Molly asked. “You trained with my brothers, Gideon and Fabian, didn’t you?”

“Aye, that I did. You married Arthur Weasley, right?”

“Oh, yes. Twenty years come next February.” Molly beamed.

“And kids, too?”

Molly laughed. “Seven of them. Enough for our own quidditch team, which is handy, as they're all quiddtich mad.”

“Lord, woman…” Moody shuddered.

“It’s not so bad. Our eldest, Bill, has finished Hogwarts, he’s started at Gringotts. Charlie’s dragon and quidditch mad. He’s in sixth year. Percy’s our serious lad, books are very important to him. He’s in third year. And the twins, Fred and George, well, they take after their uncles, pranks and trouble says it all. This is their first year. And we've still the two youngest at home.”

“Oh, hell…” Moody groaned.

“Something wrong?” Molly asked innocently.

“Your two troublemakers are in first year? So are my three.” Moody groaned again. “Dumbledore’s going to be calling flooing us both within a week, I just know it. Having those five in the one house, it’ll be a bloody miracle if Gryffindor tower is still standing, come Christmas.”

“Excuse me?” Molly blinked. “Gryffindor?”

“If your boys take after their Uncles, they’ll be lions. My three… well, I don’t think there’s an ounce of fear, to spread between them.” Moody said tiredly. “And keeping them still? Not possible. Even when they’re studying, they’re moving.”

“Are they into pranks, as well?” Molly grimaced slightly.

“Oh, bloody hell, yes.” Came the fervent answer.

“Oh, dear.” Molly whispered. “Should we be warning Minerva?”

“Nope. Be payback for the hell she put me through during me Auror training.” Moody smirked.

“Oh, dear.” Molly sighed, then shrugged. “Oh, well, I’d best warn Arthur.” She grinned. “Minerva had Bill and Charlie together, she should’ve been expecting this when she sent out their letters.”

Moody’s chuckle was rusty and cracked, but full of cheeky humour. “She never saw my boys’ letters, Dumbledore gave them to me, when I went to give him news about an ex-student’s death, back before Christmas.”

“Oh, bollocks.” Molly swore.

“Cedric Diggory.” McGonagall called and a blonde boy bounced forward.

“Hufflepuff.” Titan whispered, knowing that a set of redheaded twins were watching.

“Hufflepuff!” The hat called out.

“Roger Davies.”

“Ravenclaw.”

“Ravenclaw!” The hat echoed.

“Elizabeth Forester.”

“Hufflepuff.” Titan whispered.

“Hufflepuff!” The hat said a split second later.

“How’s he doing that?” One twin whispered to Remy.

“It’s Ty. He just knows.”

“Matthew Grant.”

“Ravenclaw.” Came from Ty.

“Ravenclaw!” Came from the hat.

“Paddrick Grimm.”

Ty and Remy held their breaths, this one of the few things they had no control over.

“Please be Gryffindor. Please be Gryffindor. Please be Gryffindor.” Ty whispered.

“Now he doesn’t know?” A twin asked.

“Nope, he’s too close to us to see.” Remy answered.

“Gryffindor!” The hat yelled.

Ty and Remy heaved a sigh.

“Thank the gods for that.” Ty huffed.

“Remington Grimm.”

Remy gave Ty a hug and bounced up to the stool.

“Please be Gryffindor. Please be Gryffindor. Please be Gryffindor.” Ty whispered, again.

“Gryffindor!” The hat called out.

Ty slumped.

“Titan Grimm.”

Before Ty went up, he turned to the twins. “I’ll save you guys, Lee and Ken a seat.”

 _‘Well, what do we have here…?’_ The hat spoke in Titan’s mind. Titan didn’t answer, he just opened his mind and let the hat wander where it would, knowing that it could see everything in his head in a split second. ‘ _Oh, my_.’ The hat’s ‘voice’ dropped to a whisper.

‘ _There’s no other place for you but… **Gryffindor**!_’ The hat yelled the last word.

Ty sighed in relief and waited for McGonagall to lift the hat, before heading for his brothers.

“Leave room for four more.” He told them, earning himself a few glances from the more senior student. “No, not four six, two girls, too.” He added before grinning at Charlie Weasley. “Chasers extraordinaire.”

“Chasers?” Charlie asked. “Friends of yours, huh?”

“Never met them, mate.” Pads shook his head.

“Neve-” Charlie cut himself off when Angelina Johnson was sorted into Gryffindor and plopped into a seat opposite the triplets. “Huh…” he huffed in almost surprise.

“Never mind.” Remy said, turning their attention back to the sorting, just in time to see Lee Jordan join them. Following Lee some minutes later were Alicia Spinnet and Ken Towler.

“That’s four.” Charlie raised an eyebrow.

“Fredrick Weasley.” McGonagall called and a twin bounced forward.

"She called for **_Fredrick_** Weasley not **_George_** Weasley." The hat said. "Not that it matters, he’ll be next and you’re going to **_Gryffindor!"_** George smirked and bounced down to sit beside Lee.

“Hey, mates.” He chirped brightly.

“Fredrick Weasley.” McGonagall frowned at the remaining twin, who smiled innocently at her as came forward to be sorted.

"Another one? **_Gryffindor!_** for you, my lad." The hat called.

“Where are the others going?” Lee leant forward across the table as he asked.

“Wilerby, Ravenclaw. Wilkinson, Hufflepuff. Winger, Ravenclaw. Woodbridge, Ravenclaw. Wroxton, Slytherin. Xanderson, Hufflepuff. Yoshii, Ravenclaw. Zeller, Hufflepuff.” Ty answered, drawing astounded looks from his housemates when he was right each time.

“Bloody hell…” Oliver Wood whispered.

“Is he a seer?” A much older girl, probably in her sixth or seventh year, asked.

“Nah…” Paddrick answered.

“He just knows things about someone, when he looks at them.” Remy added.

“Not everyone.” Titan argued. “The closer they are to my age, the more I know.”

“…. whoa…” A few people exclaimed.

“Leave the firsties alone, let them settle in and get acclimated, before you start pestering them. Anyone that keeps on at them, after they’ve told you to go away, gets a detention with Filch.” The older girl who’d asked if he was a seer, told the table bluntly.

“Yes, Trinity.” The whole table, bar the firsties, replied.

“You’ll be fine, if any of them annoy you too much, come and see me. I’m Head Girl this year.”

“Yes’m.” The triplets answered as one.

“Good. Eat your dinner and don’t forget your greens.” Her comment earned a few groans from the older students. “They’re growing boys, they need their greens. Do you want me on **_your_** case?” The table was suddenly silent. “I thought not.” She winked at the firsties.

An hour later seven boys entered a tower room. They huddled together, not seeming to know what to do.

“Oi, Pinnley, I got these, you can bugger off and concentrate on ya OWLs, ya need all the help ya can get.” Charlie said without an ounce of viciousness.“Alright, budge up, budge up.” He pushed their fifth-year prefect guide aside, to enter the dorm room. 

“Really? Thanks, Weasley. Don’t know why McGonagall made me prefect. I’m gonna be struggling just to pass my OWLs.” The mousey blonde prefect cheered up.

“You’re still a far sight better than Rommick or Monterrapin.” Charlie laughed.

“Ain’t that the truth?” The boy stuck his head around Charlie and spoke to the boys. “Look guys, I’m pants at this wizarding shit. I’m not a squib, but I’m pretty close to it. The academic stuff? Theory, history, runes, arithmancy, essays? Yeah, that, I can help with. The practical stuff? Charms, transfiguration, potions. You’re better off with Charlie or one of the other sixth years, not me. But McGonagall made me a prefect and I’ll do the best I can, right?” He waited until the boys nodded. “Right. So…? To my left is your bathroom. Because you’re the biggest year-group, you’re in here and get your own bathroom. Last year this was the seventh-year boys’ dorm but there were only two of them. With seven of you in the one dorm, McGonagall thought it was better to give you the biggest room, rather than split you into two groups. That might still happen, but not yet.” Pointed to his left. “Like I said, your bathroom. The beds are first come first served, but they’re all pretty much the same. Normally, you would have been allocated a bed and the house-elves would have put your stuff on the bed. But… Three of you only brought one bag of stuff and McGonagall wants to know why. Why?”

The triplets pulled tiny boxes from their pockets.

“Grampy made sure that we had shrinking trunks and told us to keep them in our pockets.” Remy said, laying his trunk on a bed, he flicked his wrist to let his wand fall into his other hand and tapped the trunk with it, enlarging the trunk to the size of a shoebox.

“Wicked.” Pinnley laughed. “So, pick a bed and the elves will see to your stuff.”

“Can we call an elf? Our trunks are multi-compartmented and hold our wardrobes. We don’t need cupboards, wardrobes or drawers.” Paddrick explained.

“Sure, you can. Chester is the elf that tends to the boys’ side of Gryffindor tower. Chester? A moment please?” Pinnley called out.

A harried little elf appeared. “Prefect Pinnley, Chester is very busy.”

“I know and I apologise, but I thought I might you might like to know that some of the first-year boys have brought their own wardrobes and don’t need help settling in.” Pinnley said.

“Own wardrobes?” The elf asked.

“Yes.” Titan answered. “Three of us would much appreciate it, if you would remove the school wardrobes and drawers. The bedsides are fine, but the others are unnecessary. Our trunks are vertical opening and enlarge to the size of a door. One compartment is a walk-in wardrobe.”

“Chester can be doing that. Which beds?” The elf asked.

“Any objection to us having these three?” Paddrick pointed at the first beds to the right of the door. The four non-triplet boys shook their heads. “No? Great. These three, please Chester. If you could leave a clear wall surface the size of a door, that would be great. That’s all we need. Everything else is in our trunks.”

The elf said nothing, just snapped his fingers seven times. Three sets of dresser drawers and three wardrobes vanished and then a second later, so did the elf.

“Elves are brilliant.” Pinnley grinned. “Never piss off an elf, you’ll regret it.”

“Oh, yeah…” Charlie nodded. “Bill can vouch for that.”

Pinnley nodded. “Right. I’ll leave you to unpack and settle in. Breakfast is available from 6.30am, in the Great Hall and as today was Friday, you’ll have the weekend to explore before classes start on Monday. You’ll get your class schedule at breakfast tomorrow and I suggest copying it and keeping the original in your bedside, which also open out, like this…” Pinnely nodded to Charlie and the redhead stepped over to the nearest bed and pressed a small carved scroll on the centre-front of the bedside chest of drawers. The panel clicked and fell open to reveal a tray that slid forward, to become a small desk. “These desks are quite handy and if you find yourself using it a lot, ask for a chair, Chester will get one for you. Anything else I need to cover?”

“Nope, we’re good. Thanks, Pinnley.” Charlie waved him off. “Fred, George? Dad wanted me to warn you. Uncle Gareth says if mum and dad get a letter or floo-call about you two and your pranks, before Christmas, he’s going to pull you from Hogwarts and let Aunt Muriel home-school you.”

The twins gaped at him in shock. “No! No, that’s not fair. He can’t do that!” One yelled, while the other was stunned speechless.

“Yes, he can. He’s the head of house, he gets the final say.” With that Charlie left the dorm.

“Whoa… rotten luck guys.” Lee said.

“What are your prank rules? Let’s see if we can find a way around them.” Remy offered.

The four non-triplets turned to look at Remy.

“Prank rules…?” Ken Towler asked.

“What are pranks rules?” A twin asked.

The triplets looked at each other in surprise before turning to the others.

“You… you don’t have rules?” Remy asked.

“No…” A twin answered.

“Why should we…?” The other added.

“But what about your planning?” Titan asked.

“How do you avoid getting caught?” Paddrick asked.

“Uh…” The two twins grimaced.

“You get caught?” Paddrick gasped. “Tell me you don’t?”

“Eh, we do.” A twin shrugged.

“No, no, that’s **_not_** on. Titan, get The Rules.” Paddrick ordered.

“Yes, Paddrick.” Titan set his trunk up, quickly and darted into it, only to emerge a few seconds later holding a scroll. “The Rules.” This time the twins heard the emphasis that made the difference between ‘the rules’ and ‘The Rules’.

Paddrick took the scroll and without unrolling it, he tapped his wand against it and against one of the bedposts, then pressed the upper edge of the scroll to the same point on the bedpost, that he’d tapped. The scroll stayed in place, but it unrolled to show dozens of lines of writing.

“What the heck…?” A twin gasped.

“Oh, my god. There’s so many…” The other whined.

“There are, but they’re practical. Read them and we’ll explain.”

The three non-triplet boys huddled around the bedpost and read through the list as quickly as they could.

“Everybody read it?” Paddrick asked.

“Yeah, but why? Why rules? That kinda defeats the idea of pranking.” A twin whined.

“You mean to tell me that you couldn’t figure out a way to stay within those rules in still prank someone?” Paddrick snorted.

“Of course, we could, but why bother?”

“Alright. Let’s break them down. Prank rule one, homework and classwork. How can someone complain that we’re neglecting our studies, to pull pranks, if we’re getting EE’s or O’s?” Remy asked, earning a blinking look of surprise from four boys. “Exactly. They can’t.”

“Rule two, homework is off limits. You don’t want someone whinging to a Professor that you destroyed their homework, easiest way there is to get a detention.” Paddrick said. The four nodded in understanding.

“Rule three, family memorabilia. Our parents died before we were one year old, we have next to nothing of theirs, making what we do have very important to us. We don’t want to lose what little we have. Would you want someone else to destroy your father’s wand or something he gave you?” Titan went on.

“Rule four, medication. We pranksters, not killers. Targeting someone’s medication could kill them. We don’t want that. Grampy told us about Azkaban, it’s not good, I don’t want to go there, just because of a prank.” Remy said. The four nodded vigorously.

“Rule five, the hospital and medi-witch. Never upset the person that controls what medical treatment you get. It may cause her to give you a purging potion, rather than a stomach soother.” Paddrick warned. The four looked a bit green at the thought.

“We feel that this may need to be modified to include house-elves and the potions labs. Potions can be dangerous enough without adding pranking ingredients. We’ll talk to Grampy and see what he thinks. In the meantime, elves and the labs are off limits.” Titan added and the four nodded again.

“Rule six, no injury. Our pranks are to be harmless fun. If we start causing injury, that’s setting us on the path to Azkaban. Not happening.” Paddrick was adamant.

“Rule seven, damage. Neither the caretaker, the Headmaster nor our families are going to be understanding if we cause the castle to collapse because of a prank.” Remy warned.

“Rule eight, targeting a person. That’s bullying and we won’t do that. Our pranks are to be fun.” Titan stated.

“Rule nine, pets. How do we know if an animal is a pet and not a familiar? Targeting a familiar is illegal and classed as assault.” Paddrick sighed.

“Rule ten, timeframes. It’s all well and good to turn someone pink for an hour but leaving them that way for a week is bullying. Grampy suggested that one meal or two classes should be long enough.” Titan said.

“Rule eleven, reversibility. We need to be able to reverse a prank in seconds. If someone is allergic to a potion we’ve used, we don’t want to kill them. Or if someone overreacts, due to fright or anger, or if someone is hurt. Reversing or stopping the prank is important.” Remy said. The four nodded thoughtfully.

“Then there’s Recon.” Titan pointed at the next category.

“Observation.” Paddrick said. “We need to know all we can about our target, or we risk having someone else set the prank off and the target walk away un-pranked.” The twins tilted their heads in consideration.

“Action. What will the prank do to the target? What will it do to bystanders? What will it do to the building or garden around it?” Remy asked.

“Reaction. How will the target react during the prank? This echoes back to observation, by watching the target we should know how they will react. Will they start hexing people? Will they fall to the ground and cry? Will they freeze and scream? How will the staff react? And how fast will they react?” Titan fired off the questions and the four non-triplets nodded with each question.

“Result. What is the result to be? A laugh? A lesson? Payback? Will rules be changes because of our prank?” Paddrick asked.

“And finally, the planning.” Remy said.

“Why? Why this prank on this target? Is there a reason? Are we trying to get a few laughs, teach someone a lesson or get revenge?” Titan asked.

“Where? Where is it going to be? Why there and how do we limit the damage or the people that are affected? Depends a little on the answer to planning’s ‘Why?’ and Recon’s observation.” Paddrick shrugged.

“What? What is the prank made of? And what will it do to the target?” Titan grinned.

“How? How do we set it off? Timer? Touch? Drink? Motion?” Remy asked.

“When? During lunch? During class? While they are asleep? When they walk through a door? Does it activate instantly or is it delayed?” Paddrick fired off the options and the twins blinked in thought.

“The end. How long does it last? How do we end the prank early if we need to?” Remy said.

“And lastly… Afterwards. How do we avoid getting caught?” Paddrick grinned. “We don’t mind people knowing that we’re to blame, but we refuse to give them enough proof to punish us.”

There was silence for a few minutes before the twins looked at each other.

“Holy shit…” One whispered.

“… we’re amateurs…” The other finished.

“I’ve never heard something that made so much sense.” Lee said quietly.

“Or explained so easily.” Ken added.

“There is one catch…” Remy warned.

“Oh gods.” The twins gulped.

“We have a prank book, that we record all our pranks in. It updates one that Grampy has, we simply hit the connect sigil and it records when we sent it to him and won’t let us alter anything after that. This is to cover us in case someone tries to claim that it wasn’t a prank, but that we intended to injure or kill someone.” Remy answered.

“Why didn’t we think of something like that?” One twin asked the other.

“Because we’re amateurs.” The other twin sighed.

“Clearly.” The first huffed.

“Alright, so what do the professional pranksters have in mind for Hogwarts?” Lee asked, sitting on a bed and leaned against a bedpost.

“Well…” Paddrick tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “We had planned to do a basic recon of the castle and classes. Take a month to observe. Learn the layout, what the teachers are like, what we can get away with in class, talk to the older years and find out what the punishments are, what detentions are like. That sort of thing.”

The twins were looking more and more sullen.

“It’s not something we can do in a day, now is it?” Remy asked.

“No, I suppose not.” A twin sighed.

“And then?” The other twin asked.

“Then… we attack. Harmless, visible and easily detected. But… not on the students. We want to get the Professors. We know a little, because Grampy gave us a briefing on the staff and castle and we have a marvellous piece of parchment. We’ll all be studying it tomorrow. It’s a map of the school, it was made by the ultimate pranksters. The Marauders. And Grampy says if we mention them where a Professor can hear us, they’ll go crazy, but we’re likely to end up in detention, just for thinking about them.” Paddrick grinned.

Before anyone could reply or ask a question, McGonagall’s voice issued from the ceiling.

“First years have five minutes to curfew and thirty-five minutes to lights out.”

The non-triplets gasped.

“Oh, bugger.” Lee jumped off the bed and ran to the centre of the room and the pile of luggage. “We haven’t unpacked, yet.” He threw a bag on a bed and dragged a trunk over to that bed. “Hurry up.” He yelled. “Before the lights go out.”

The twins and Ken blinked and leapt into motion, while the triplets shook their heads and went to their own beds. Trunks were unshrunk and placed, pyjamas were fetched from wardrobes and the triplets headed for the bathroom and a the quickest of showers.

When the lamp hanging from the ceiling, faded to a glimmer, four of the seven boys were showered, teeth cleaned and the other three were in the process of getting dressed. The light dimmed, leaving just a single light in the bathroom, facing away from the dorm. The last three boys shuffled across the unfamiliar room and climbed into unfamiliar beds.

Quiet goodnights were called, and sleep began to claim them.


	14. Chapter 14

_When the lamp hanging from the ceiling, faded to a glimmer, four of the seven boys were showered, teeth cleaned and the other three were in the process of getting dressed. The light dimmed, leaving just a single light in the bathroom, facing away from the dorm. The last three boys shuffled across the unfamiliar room and climbed into unfamiliar beds._

_Quiet goodnights were called, and sleep began to claim them._

September passed and while there were odd looks from the twins’ older brothers, at there being no obvious pranks, no one said anything. On the last Saturday of the month, in the middle of the afternoon, seven boys gathered around a large desk in an unused classroom on the sixth floor, large pieces of butchers’ paper spread out on the desks between them.

“Alright, what have we got so far?” Remy asked.

“Filius Flitwick.” Fred, or the twin wearing an ‘F’ jumper, answered. “Head of Ravenclaw. Rumoured to be part goblin, but nothing proven as far as the student body is aware. Date of birth 17th October, year unknown. Charms Professor. Height deprived. Regular library user, he always returns books on or before due date. No familiar. No owl. Lives in the school during summers. Rarely receives mail from outside. Unknown when he was a student. Unknown what his NEWTs’ scores were. Unknown when he completed his charms mastery. Duelling champion in the 1960’s, completed his Duelling Mastery in 1963, won the world championships in 1967 and 1969. Returned to Hogwarts in 1971. Offered Ravenclaw head’s post in 1974. Little to no change in his circumstances since 1974.” Fred slid one sheet of paper to one side.

“Next?” Remy asked.

“Minerva McGonagall.” Paddrick raised his hand. “Born 4 October 1938. Rumoured to be a Hatstall at her sorting, eventually sorted into Gryffindor. Played chaser until bad fall in her seventh year. Dumbledore was her transfiguration Professor and taught her to become an Animagus, her form is a tabby cat. Joined the DMLE but wasn’t happy in London, rumoured to not like the city. Applied to Hogwarts in 1967 to teach transfig. Married in 1982, he was bitten by a venomous tentacular in 1985 and died before treatment could be given. She’s since devoted her life to the school. Became head of Gryffindor in 1969.” He added his sheet of paper to Fred’s.

“Hmm… we could…” Remy squinted and scribbled down a note on the notepad under his hand. “Next?”

“Severus Snape.” Titan raised a quill. “Born 6th January 1960. Best friends with Lily Evans. He went into Slytherin, she went into Gryffindor, but they stayed friends. Picked on and bullied by the marauders, led by James Potter who didn’t like Lily hanging around with a snake. Public argument with the marauders and Lily led to end of the friendship. Joined the Death-Eaters in 1979. Approached Dumbledore about defecting, six months later. Testified under veritaserum in January 1982, charged with minor misdemeanours, fined ʛ1250, given two-year good behaviour bond and released. Rumoured that Dumbledore paid the fine. Accepted potions apprenticeship under Horace Slughorn in February 1982, tested and passed mastery exams in June 1986. Began teaching alongside Slughorn in 1984, Slughorn retired in July 1986. Became head of Slytherin in 1987. Rumoured to wear mourning black in remembrance of Lily Evans. Is studying towards defence mastery, expected to sit mastery exams within two years. Runs his classes with strict discipline, as a result has the lowest student injury rate in the ICW school system. Rigidly fair to all students.”

“Whoa…” George, or the twin wearing the ‘G’ jumper, gasped.

“That could be interesting…” Paddrick waggled his eyebrows. “We could do all sorts of things there.”

“Make a note of your idea, Pads.” Remy pointed at the notepad in front of Paddrick.

“Urgh…” Paddrick grunted but scribbled a few lines down.

“Next?”

“Argus Filch.” Lee shook his piece of paper. “Nothing unknow about his personal life. He’s a squib. Came to Hogwarts in 1967. Succeeded Appollyon Pringle in 1968 as caretaker. Hates kids for the most part. Mrs Norris is a purebred kneazle and came with him when arrived, given her age it’s assumed that she is his familiar, as most kneazles only live about the same as cats, ten-to-fifteen years and she's well over that. Frequently overheard begging Dumbledore to let him string up students by their ankles from the ceiling as a part of their detention, given his attitude, it’s assumed to not be a joke.” Lee’s paper joined the others. “Not much, but we can work on it.”

“We can. Next?”

“Binns.” Ken tapped his paper. “Cuthbert Binns. All we know about Binns is that he died before 1970 and he teaches the exact same lesson on goblin wars for every single class, regardless of year. That’s it. Nothing else. There is a rumour that he died in the middle of class, but we can’t get proof, either way. Multiple complaints against him, but no action has ever been taken. The Head Boy is a ‘puff and says go to class but take your herbology earmuffs. Oh, and if we’re interested, there’s a series of study-guides put together by a Ravenclaw a few years ago. The story I got goes… the ‘claw knew her younger brother was coming to Hogwarts and she wasn’t going to let him struggle through Binns’ class, so she started keeping track of what was in each exam and asked the older students for their old test-papers, and over the summer she put together a study-guide for History and convinced, or blackmailed... unknown which... other students who topped a subject to do the same for their preferred subject. By the end of the summer they had a guide for each first-year subject and new ones were written as each new year was finished. They cover everything for the exams, from first year, right through to OWLs and NEWTs. Exams only, not class essays. They’re not expensive, but they’re cheaper as a complete set for each subject for all seven years combined. §10 per guide or ʛ3 for the set, plus you provide a blank journal for each guide you want or… ʛ1 each or ʛ5 for each set, less the blank books.”

“Question?” Fred raised a hand. “Is this widely known or a word of mouth secret?”

“From what I can gather, if you don’t ask, you don’t get told. The Professors weren’t mentioned.” Ken answered after checking his notes. “It seems to be a student-run thing.”

“I just wonder… Does Pinnley know? Should we tell him?” Fred asked.

“If he doesn’t know…? We could earn ourselves some house points.” Lee said.

“Forget the house points, I’m thinking we earn ourselves some favours.” Fred argued.

“Ooh… Yeah…” Paddrick grinned, bouncing in his seat.

“Alright, we tell Pinnley, get in his good books.” Lee laughed.

“That sounds good. Who’s next?”

“Me.” George said. “Pomona Sprout. Born 15th May, again year unknown. Head of Hufflepuff. Mastery in herbology and journeyman in potions, both under Alejandro Delgado at Castelobruxo. Returned to Hogwarts in 1969. Became head of Hufflepuff in 1972. Private quarters are in the Portcullis Keep, not the castle proper. No family, she was an only child and her parents died not long after she graduated. She has a habit of taking ‘interesting’ plants to the ‘puff’s common-room as decorations. Very protective of her badgers. Reputed to have the highest NEWT marks for DADA in her year and frequently spars with Flitwick.”

“I’ve got a few ideas, there.” Titan offered, holding up his notepad.

“We’ll get there, Ty.” Remy said. “Anyone else?”

“I’ve got Aurora Sinistra.” Titan answered. “Born 12 July 1966. When straight from NEWT exams to Astronomy apprenticeship, completed the apprenticeship, but hasn’t sat the mastery exams. Returned to Hogwarts as short-term Professor, for the 1987/88 school year, but is still here. Was sorted into Ravenclaw. Among the highest astronomy scores in twenty years, only beaten by Lily Potter and Bartemius Crouch jnr. Lives in Hogsmeade during the summers. Expected to remain as Astronomy Professor for some years.”

The boys continued exposing the lives of the school’s Professors, both personal and public.

“And lastly… Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.” Titan held up the last sheet of paper. “Born 27th August 1881. Halfbood, mother was a muggleborn, father a pureblood. One brother, one sister. Sister was attacked by muggle boys and mentally damaged, she wasn’t an obscurus, but only just. Albus was sorted into Gryffindor and was quickly courted by the purebloods, due to his father’s actions of retaliation against the earlier mentioned muggle boys. Albus was not pleased and let it be known. Won numerous awards during his schooling, among them awards for spell casting and transfiguration, was named Head Boy in his last year, even though he was never a prefect. Planned to travel the world with his school friend, Elphias Doge, in 1899. The night before they were to leave his mother was killed by accidental magic, cast by his sister, leaving him head of house. Met Gellert Grindelwald that summer and the two became fast friends, which developed into a romantic relationship. His brother disapproved and an argument broke out, spells were cast, and their sister was killed, the caster was never identified.” Titan shrugged at the look of astonishment on the twins’ faces. “This is all public knowledge, if you go looking for it. The brother attacked him at the sister’s funeral and broke his nose, it was never able to be healed magically. Started teaching at Hogwarts in 1906, having earned a DADA mastery and taught DADA. Moved to transfig., in 1926 and stayed there until becoming headmaster. Was the one to involve Scamander in the Grindelwald Global war. Banned from teaching DADA ever again, in 1927. Introduced Tom Riddle to the wizarding world in 1938. Defeated Grindelwald in 1945. Rejected any and all suggestions that he take the minister’s position. Became headmaster in 1966, when Armando Dippet retired. Rejected Tom Riddle’s demand for the DADA post in 1967. Created the Order of the Phoenix in 1972 in reaction to Riddle’s terror attacks. Was the one to hear the prophecy regarding Riddle’s defeat. Approached by Severus Snape for asylum in 1979. Was the one to cast the Fidelius for the Potters. Was also the first on the scene when Riddle attacked them, arrived too late to save them or Sirius Black, but Riddle was still present. A duel in a hallway and Riddle was dead, decapitated by a deflected cutting curse, cast by his own wand. Was the one to insist on questioning suspected Death-Eaters and sympathisers under _veritaserum_.” Titan looked to Fred and George and smirked. “Was also the one to suggest William Weasley apply to Gringotts for a curse-breaking apprenticeship and refer a Miss Tonks apply to the Auror corps, when she graduates.”

“Whoa…” The twins breathed.

“Thanks, Titan. Let’s put them all in alphabetical order, surname first.” Remy suggested and Ken and Lee began flicking through the sheets. When they were finished, he continued. “Who’s first? And what’s their subject?”

“Babbling. Study of Ancient Runes.” Fred answered.

“Ideas?”

“We could make up our own rune alphabet.” Paddrick said.

“We could write little notes or lists in futhark or Cyrillic.” Ken said.

“We could make up our own cypher and write it in futhark.” Lee said. “Leave notes for her to find.”

“I like that, let’s do that.” Paddrick nodded vigorously.

“Next?”

“Binns. History.”

“Can’t we just exorcise him?” George asked.

“Send him notes to say, he’s been fired.” Fred said.

“Or that the classroom’s been moved.”

“Can we get the Grey Lady involved? Or the Bloody Baron?” Ken asked. “They’re very protective of their students, if they think he’s hurting their schooling, wouldn’t they react?”

“Ooh, that one, please, that one?” Fred begged.

“We’ll investigate that, we may have to speak to Snape or Flitwick and ask them to be a middleman.” Remy warned. "Getting rid of him ay cause issues with the Ravenclaws and their study-guide systems."

“We'll think about it. And send Titan to Snape.” Paddrick ordered. “Snape likes him.”

“Dumbledore. Headmaster.” Lee said.

“He loves his sweeties.” Titan said. “What if we made a potion, that made everything he ate taste salty or sour?”

“Or… in the muggle world, kids are taught stranger danger. People offering children sweeties are dangerous. We could get some pamphlets from the muggles and leave them where he’ll find them.” Lee said.

“Ooh, ooh, ooh. What if we left the pamphlets for the muggle-raised?” George said. “How would he react if the muggle-raised freaked out every time he tried to give them a sweetie?”

“Sold.” Remy, Paddrick and Lee all slapped their hands on the table.

“Next?”

It took the first-year lions five weeks to find the spells they needed and another six before they were happy that they could cast them. Which brought them well into December. A hasty conference and the seven boys decided that they’d leave the pranks until the last day of term, and that each teacher would discover the prank at different times and in different locations.

Titan was designated to speak to Snape about the day, he’d had to approach the stern man to ask about the charms that made his robes billow. They wanted to do use that on the curtains and anything that came close to Trelawney, but not have her own clothes react.

It was Snape that offered the comment that mandrake seedlings liked music but if played songs, they would repeat the what they heard for days and that venomous tentacular plants liked opera. Sprout kept them in the same greenhouse and Snape always wondered what would happen if someone were to put a gramophone in with them.

He also told Titan what the charm for his robes was and how to place the charm on a particular person but not have their clothes so much as flutter, even in a gale.

Breakfast on the last day of term was amusing.

Filch had a canary flitting from one shoulder to the other and every few minutes it could be heard to say, ‘I twat I taw a puddy tat’ as Mrs Norris slunk along behind him. Any muggle-raised nearby would invariably answer, ‘you did tee a puddy tat, you did’ and begin to laugh.

Professor Flitwick was only a few minutes behind the caretaker, and he had a set of kitchen steps following him. The three-step ladder had sprouted tiny feet, four on each leg, and padded along behind the charms Professor, waiting for a chance to act. Every time the Professor stopped, the steps would edge up beside him and one tiny little foot would reach out and tap little wizard on the foot, encouragingly, sitting up strong and firm. When he ignored them, the steps would wilt and sag, until he moved, and the process would start all over again.

Professor Babbling was already sat at the staff table, when the Horde arrived for breakfast, she had a sheet of parchment in her hand and a very confused expression on her face.

And the day got better from there.

First class of the day was potions and Professor Snape’s robes were no longer black, now they were a deep pewter grey with emerald green trim with silver and black snakes slithering around the hem and collar.

Then it was history of magic. After very carefully considering it, the Horde, as they’d taken to calling themselves, had decided to leave Binns in place. With the study-guide put out by the Ravenclaws, getting rid of the ghost was pointless and might even mess things up, new teachers were never a good thing. Just look at DADA.

After lunch the Horde made their way out to the greenhouses but were stopped by Sprout before they’d left the Long Gallery and were directed to greenhouse two instead of greenhouse seven. The hornbeam seedlings and angel's trumpet seedlings, were being conducted by the venomous tentaculars while the mandrakes and the fanged geraniums were singing, tenor and soprano respectively. But badly off-key. The cacophony could be heard from the Gallery, horns and singing that clashed abysmally.

And the last class of the day was transfiguration. Titan was no Neville Longbottom when it came to plants, but he knew how to order what he wanted. On McGonagall’s desk sat a small pot plant. Catnip. But it wasn’t a normal catnip. Titan have laid out good gold to get pots of this plant. It was a magical crossbreed, between muggle catnip and a venomous tentacular. The _Tentacular Felis Velicio_ or Catnip Vine had the vines of the tentacular, but the leaves were catnip leaves and the heads, instead of biting and being venomous, rubbed against you and purred like a cat.

It was also decorated with tiny Christmas baubles, tinsel and a glittering golden star that hung in the air above the plant, its tentacles brushing over the star and getting coated in glittering fairy dust, that made the little plant look like it was going to float away on a breeze.

The boys nodded to each other. Yep, they’d got it right.

Combine that last prank with adding their black-market businesses of study-trunks, muggle stationery, pet supplies and wizarding wares? Yeah, the seven boys were in high spirits as they boarded the train back to London.

It had taken the triplets only a few days to decide that the Room was too big for them to handle alone, so their dormmates had been subtly approached and chaos was born, in more ways than one. The Horde was what they called their pack and their business-group was to be named The Lion’s Den. At first the triplets were the only members of the Horde, while the Lion’s Den had four shareholders with Lee joining them instantly, followed quickly by the twins a few days later and in about a month, Ken had joined, too. But the pack had grown, first the twins, then some weeks later Lee signed on, while Ken hadn’t joined them until they were putting their prank into production.

They spend a week hashing out the details, but finally a plan was formed. The Lion’s Den was the ‘Parent’ business and frequently just called the Den, with a number of ‘children’ subsidiary businesses, under its banner. Each business would pay a small tithe back to the Den, half would remain with the Den to cover any costs of renting or buying a premises when they left school, while the other half would be paid back to the shareholders in ʛalleons. The boys would put up a certain amount each to the Den, be it time or money, ʛ10 or 100 hours, and would claim two shares, these would slowly pay back good gold, to those that had only had their time to give. This also allowed each boy to buy back a ten-hour-block of his time, by replacing it with a Den-paid ʛalleon, when they started to make profits. The idea being that eventually, they would invite other students and their businesses to buy into the Lion's Den, which would increase the Den's income and what was paid out to the shareholders.

The triplets’ joint ‘child’ business was ‘Tribus’, this was primarily for the study-trunks and used one share from each boy to funnel profits back into the business. The standard study-trunk was plain pine with leather and brass fittings. It had a single expanded compartment, four-by-four with an eight-foot ceiling. It came with a wiz-space bathroom, consisting of shower, vanity and toilet;, a wiz-space office-cum-library that was ten-by-twenty foot and lastly a set of shelves on the wall opposite the entrance.

There were two secondary sizes, depending on what classes a student took. A four-by-eight foot trunk came with bathroom, office and options for two or three wiz-spaces. There was a catch, of course. You had to study a subject to get a wiz-space based on the subject. E.g. To get a potions lab, you had to be studying potions, to get a greenhouse you had to study herbology and to get a blank space, you had to be studying runes or transfig,. And they were to be warded that only family or dormmates could enter and only if you invited them. No one of the opposite sex could enter a trunk unless they shared your blood, were licenced healers or were a Professor. They had two additional options for the student. Did the student want to buy the trunk? Or would they prefer to rent it?

Titan also had ‘The Bolt-Hole’, which used his second share to bolster the fledgling business and was a range of trunks that were for the graduating seniors when they were leaving the school. They could have a bedroom, kitchen, laundry and the same options as the study-trunks. He would also consider selling them to relatives of students, that spent a lot of time travelling.

Remy's second share was used to support ‘Insider Information’, which specialised in books, he had bought all the books from the Room, from the Den. He put together libraries, one for each year of Hogwarts, that would complement the Ravenclaw study-guides. Then there were the advanced or remedial books, for those that needed them. And of course, there were a selection of muggle books that would help, too. Books on astronomy, maths, essay writing, how to research, time management and a whole range of muggle academic texts for those that wanted to keep up with their muggle schooling.

Paddrick had used his second share to help ‘The Stellar Outfitter’, he was the one you approached once you bought a study-trunk or a Bolt-Hole trunk, if you didn’t want to furnish it for yourself. He would present you with options. What did the one want in their trunk? The library with a selection of textbooks? Or without? With potions equipment? Or without? With a selection of items for transfiguration? Without? With animated miniature versions of the animals in CoMC? Without? With greenhouse supplies? With plants? Without? With a charmed view of the night sky for astronomy? Without? He also stocked a whole heap of non-stationery school supplies, from cauldrons to earmuffs to gloves to quidditch equipment.

Lee’s ‘child’ business was ‘The Desk Set’ and he used one share to fund it and one share was held in reserve for his savings. The Desk Set was offering muggle stationery – exercise books, pencils, pens, erasers, graph-paper and even geometry sets. And all of these, bar the exercise books and graph-paper, were things that were available to wizarding student, if they knew where to look, even if Lee was getting his supplies from the muggle world. Timber rulers, metal rulers, metal protractors, metal compasses, metal pencil sharpeners, glass quills, refillable fountain pens, ink cartridges, pen stands, student compendiums, scroll holders, clipboards, metal page markers, leather page markers, pencil leads, metal mechanical pencils, eraser and the list went on.

The twins, on the other hand used all their shares to fund their shop, ‘Don’t Forget The…’, went for all the stuff that the muggleborn, or raised, didn’t know about, didn’t know how to get, didn’t want to buy in Hogsmeade or buy in person or send a school owl for. Robes, wand holsters, wand stands, wand car kits, owl perches, bruise balms, pain-relief potions, contraception potions and general nutrient potions. Books of housekeeping charms, etiquette, law, first aid potions and how to apply them. And muggle styled clothes were there, too, some old enough to be back in fashion, some new enough to still be in fashion and some simple enough to never go out of fashion.

Ken aslo kept one share back and simply called his shop, ‘Pets and Familiars’ and went, ironically enough, with supplies for pets and familiars. Cat scratching posts, toys, beds, grooming tools, trees, collars, coats, perches for different sized birds, fish and aquariums for fish, toads or snakes. He had a surprising number of Slytherins who’d approached and asked if he could get them a snake, Snape being the first.

And one might wonder… How…? How were the boys were going to be acquiring these items? Particularly as they were first years and couldn’t leave the school and the Express only got back into London on Wednesday evening and the Horde were having their ‘shop day’ on Saturday.

Well, the answer to that is something that many wizards forgot. While students can’t leave the castle and its ground until third year, there’s nothing stopping them from meeting with family or friends, at the borders, as long as the boundaries weren’t crossed. There are two entrances to the school, on solid ground anyway, the main gates, near Hogsmeade, and the station gates, near Hogsmeade station on the other side of the Black Lake. And that was where the Horde had met with Moody, Lee’s father and Ken’ mother.

Unsurprisingly, the parents had no hesitation in taking the boys’ shopping lists and going shopping for them, some in person and some by owl. It didn’t take long and Lee was asking about how to get an expanded trunk. The triplets and Moody explained, and Remy suggested that each boy get two trunks, one for himself, like theirs, and one that was only slightly expanded and buy wiz-spaces from the Den, for his shop. After carefully negotiations, watch by amused parents, the boys decided that the Lion’s Den would buy the trunks and each boy would pay it back, using whatever method they felt comfortable with. Lee and Ken went with a set amount each month, while Fred and George went with a percentage of their income.

Then there is the question of how they raised the money to fund the businesses.

They sorted the Room. Going through the rest of thepiles, one by one.

Furniture that could be repaired, was, and some the triplets bought from the Den, perches and cages were bought by Ken, while the remaining pieces were sold, either for scrap or to the second-hand store.

Magical Portraits had told the boys who their occupants were and what families they’d been part of, and the boys had listed them, some families were contacted immediately, and the portraits were returned, often with a small monetary reward as thanks, which was split between the boys, the rest were stored for the time being. All grimoires, and there were a surprising number of them, were catalogued and where possible, anonymously returned to the family, the Room having been ‘required’ to give them the name of the current head of house or the most senior member. If the family bloodline was extinct, the Room was ‘required’ to provide a method to ‘unlock’ the grimoire, that could be used at a later date. These grimoires stayed under the control of the Den's ‘parent’ business, not sold to Remus for Inside Information to sell on, the plan being that when a squib’s descendants returned to the wizarding world, the grimoires would be there, waiting for them.

Clothes were assessed and some were sold to the twins and some were sold to the tailors in Diagon and Technic Alleys, to be stripped down and remade. Footwear was likewise assessed but what the twins didn’t sell was vanished as unusable.

Equipment was assessed and some Paddrick bought, some was bought by Titan, some by Remy, some by the twins or Ken and the remainder was vanished.

The weekend before the Express headed back to London the boys had finally emptied the room of anything but Hogwarts owned school furniture, or items that belonged to someone currently still attending the school. As the Den had approached the elves about emptying the room they felt that Lee’s suggestion, of the boys approaching the elves and asking them to forward notes to the students that the Room declared as an item’s owner, telling them that they had so many days to call an elf to get their possessions back, was a sound move.

And now they were heading back to London. Usually, the Weasley boys stayed at Hogwarts over the Christmas break. With Arthur and Molly trying to feed, clothe and educate seven children, money for Christmas was often scarce and one way to ensure that the boys had a true Christmas, was to allow them to stay at school. But not this year. This year, Moody had contacted the Weasley’s, Samuel Jordan and the Towlers and offered to sponsor the boys, his reason being, that he wanted his boys to have an animosity-free time at Hogwarts and having four boys angry or annoyed because they didn’t have something that his boys did, could ruin the atmosphere in the dorm.

Ken’s mother happily agreed, she was a muggleborn and worked long hours in the muggle world to support Ken, his sister and their father, who’d been severely injured in a car accident. His sister, Melissa, wasn’t a witch and was quite grateful for that, she was leaning towards studying medicine school when she finished her secondary education. Moody’s offer to contact a discreet healer to see if wizarding healing could help Mr Towler was quickly accepted and when the result was positive, a schedule of treatment and payment was agreed upon.

Lee’s father was more dubious, but after hearing how much it cost for the trunk that Titan was recommending and how Lee planned to run The Desk Set, he shrugged and agreed. That was way outside his understanding, he was a soldier, not a salesman.

Arthur and Molly were the hardest sell, but when the twins begged to have the sponsorship, they reluctantly agreed. Having the boys suggest making Moody their fulltime guardian might have had something to do with it. Whether they would or not was an unknown, nothing had been decided.

Part of the sponsorship deal was that the boys would stay with Moody and the triplets for a week, or more, of each holiday. Given that Christmas holidays were only two weeks, that meant half the holiday and the boys had chosen the first half. Come Easter, which was only ten days, the sponsored boys would only be spending a few days with their families. Although Samuel had already asked if Lee could stay with them for the entire time as getting leave over Easter, for more than a day, was not easy. Summer holidays would be negotiated at the beginning of June.

The Den approached the Head Boy and Girl with information on what they planned to sell and offered to rent an upstairs parlour at the Leaky Cauldron, as a place to show their wares, on the condition that only fifth years and up would attend. The lower years would have to wait until the Express. Moody had contacted Tom the barkeeper and booked the room, from eight in the morning, until seven at night.

It proved to be a busy day and a very profitable one for all involved. Tribus sold forty-seven trunks and rented/leased out another thirty-two. Titan sold three post-graduation trunks and had commissions to make another nine. Remy sold nearly ʛ5000 worth of books including the libraries for twenty-one Tribus trunks and two of Titan’s trunks. Paddrick was just as rapt, he had commissions to outfit those same trunks and had sold another ʛ400 worth of miscellaneous school gear. The twins sold far less, but they knew that most of their sales would come from the lower years and today was only for the seniors, but even so, ʛ350 was still a good haul. Lee had done well, over ʛ2500. The most popular being the exercise books, graph-paper and the glass quills. Ken was quite happy with his sales, too, roughly ʛ650. Four kittens, two of which were Siamese, one was Persian and the last was a Maine Coone. Three canaries, two budgerigars, a dove and one parrot. Four turtles and three snakes. Plus, beds, stands, toys and the cages or aquariums to house them.

Yes, it was a busy day and all seven boys knew they’d sleep like the dead that night, but come the next day they had plans to hit the muggle stores in Edinburgh and stock up as best they could, before returning to Hogwarts for the next term.


	15. Chapter 15

_Yes, it was a busy day and all seven boys knew they’d sleep like the dead that night, but come the next day they had plans to hit the muggle stores in Edinburgh and stock up as best they could, before returning to Hogwarts for the next term._

The return journey to Hogwarts saw a steady stream of students through the boys’ compartment, there seemed to be no difference in who was asking for bruise balms, fountain pens or wand holsters. Purebloods, halfbloods and muggleborns, it made no difference. A couple of seventh years asked if they could rent a library, after all, they only had six months before they were finished their schooling and while they had taken subject as electives, they had little intention of progressing any further with some subjects. Remy offered to put together subject libraries that that could be rented and returned, he would have them ready by the end of the weekend.

Charlie waited patiently for the influx of students to diminish and was slightly surprised when it didn’t. He and the boys barely had time to pack their trunks away and change into their robes before the Express pulled into Hogsmeade station. He managed to shoo away anyone that wanted their attention and be the only non-Horde member in their carriage.

“Alright, I want some bloody answers.” His voice was calm, but slightly confused.

“What do you wanna know?” Fred asked. Titan had quietly clued his brothers in, on how to tell Fred and George apart.

“Where the hell did you get the money to buy all this stuff? Did you steal it? Did you borrow it? Mum and dad won’t like that, either way.”

“We didn’t.” George answered. “Not really. Did you know there was a lost property Room in Hogwarts? We approached the elves about getting a couple of things for class, you know dad doesn’t make much money and with four of us here and having to pay Bill’s apprentice fees, money’s hard to find. We had great-Uncle Tristan and Uncle Gideon’s wands, you know that, right? They didn’t really fit us, but we didn’t know that until these holidays.”

“Anyway…” Fred took over. “Titan, Remy and Pads all had holsters and that made it so much easier for them to carry stuff, so we decided to ask the elves if we could look through the lost property.”

“Right…” Charlies said.

“So, the head elf, Gallip, said that lost property was divided up and stored in two different places, one was all the stuff that had belonged to anyone was still at school or had left but not been gone for more than two years. The second Room, had everything else.” George explained.

“And Gallip said we could take anything we wanted from that Room. We asked about emptying the Room and were told, basically, ‘you want it, you take it, just don’t bring it back’. So, we emptied the Room, cleaned what we could, sent some to the trips' Grampy for curse-breaking, repaired other stuff and sorted through centuries of crap.” Fred said. The twins, Lee and Ken, all called the triplets the ‘trips’, when speaking about the three of them together.

“And that what you’re selling to the other students?” Charlie squawked indignantly.

“No, not really.” George answered. “Oh, yeah some of it, but most of the stuff was sold privately.”

“Have you any idea how much stuff was there, Charlie?” Fred asked. “It took us until just a few days before the Express home to finish sorting through it. Four months, Charlie, four months it took.”

“And that’s why the no pranking?” Charlie frowned.

“Nope.” Fred grinned.

“Pads showed us their Prank Rules. We didn’t have any rules. They did.” George said.

“Their absolute first rule was…” Fred started.

“All homework and classwork must be done to EE level.” The six other boys joined in.

“… or no pranks.” Fred finished.

“And we weren’t at that level, not in all subjects. If we wanted their help in pulling off a prank, we had to get there, first.”

“Ah…” Charlie nodded. “That’s why the prank on the staff was on the last day.”

“Nooo…” Fred giggled.

“It took us that long to find the ruddy spells and be sure we had them right.” George sighed.

“Oh… So… Can we expect more pranks, now?”

“Unless someone pranks us and we’re looking at revenge, trying to teach someone a lesson or getting back at a bully… not really.” Fred replied.

“There’ll be some, but not a lot and not often.” Lee added.

“Our next prank is on a random selection of students and staff, from all houses and won’t happen until the day before the Easter hols.” Remy said.

“What are you going to do…?” Charlie groaned.

“No spoilers…” Fred grinned.

“But no targeting, either.” George said.

“Light-hearted stuff, even those that are hit, will laugh.” Titan assured the sixth-year student.

“Oh, hell…” Charlie whined.

“No harm, no foul.” Remy said.

“We might even get a smile out of McGonagall and Snape.” Titan added.

“Yeah, and don’t think I didn’t see you lot sneaking off to the dungeons a couple of times a week. What’s with that?” Charlie squinted at them. “Remedial lessons?”

“Oh, hell no…” Pads grimaced.

“We’re partway through the second-year stuff and the trips are well into third.” George told his brother.

“Excuse me…?” Charlie gaped at them.

“Ken and me are three months into second year, the twins are six months in and the trips are onto the third year stuff.” Lee turned to Titan. “How far in are you guys?”

“Pads and me are three months in and Remy’s almost finished third year.” Titan shrugged.

“Oh, crap…” Charlie sighed. “Why? What’s the deal?”

“We take our OWLs in fifth year, our NEWTs that summer, drop out of Snape’s class and take on the mentoring of the first and second year Gryffs, in our sixth and seventh years.” Paddrick answered.

“Oh…” Charlie seemed lost for words.

“Oh, that reminds me.” Titan reached into this satchel and pulled out a shrunken trunk. “Hold this, Pads.” He said, as he enlarged the trunk to be about the size of a small suitcase and dumped it on his brother’s lap, opened it and pulled himself down into its depths.

“What the hell…?” Charlie exclaimed.

“Wait for it…” Paddrick said from behind the trunk’s lid.

A few seconds later and Titan half-emerged from the trunk. “Gimme a hand here, guys, the trunk’s on its side.” Fred and Lee grasped Ty’s hands and pulled him out, he shrunk the trunk and tucked it away, back in his satchel. “Right, these are only available to fifth-years and up, Charlie.” He tossed over a tiny box. “That’s a trunk, its got a bathroom, library and because you’re doing herbology and potions, it’s got a greenhouse and lab, too.”

“What the… Oh… It’s… Talbot told me about these, showed me his library and potions lab, he was absolutely rapt in the thing. Said it was ʛ1000… Oh… Oh, hell, _**no!**_ I can’t afford that!” Charlie almost screeched.

“Not asking you to. We’re renting it to you.” Fred said.

“The cost?” Charlie narrowed his eyes as he studied the boys.

“Keeping your mouth closed and convincing Percy to keep **_his_** closed about our… let’s call them ‘shops’. We’re not ready for mum and dad to know, not yet.” Fred said.

“By the time Ronnie and Ginny get to Hogwarts, we might be.” George added.

“We’d better be, you know damn well Ronnie can’t keep her mouth shut about anything.” Fred grumbled.

“True.” George sighed.

“And if mum finds out about the trunk? Or the business?”

“If she finds out about the trunk, tell her it’s only a loan, just until you finish your NEWTs.” Titan said.

“And that they’re only available to those in fifth year and up.” Remy added.

“And the business?”

“Tell her Grampy’s trying to instil some business smarts in them.” Paddrick pointed at the twins, Lee and Ken. “Part of the sponsorship deal is to prepare them for ‘the real world’, as Grampy calls it.”

Charlie snorted and fell silent for a few minutes. As the carriage pulled up to the castle steps, he spoke again. “I want more information, guys, I’ll come down to your dorm after curfew. Okay?”

“Yes, Charlie.” A chorus of voices answered him.

The months passed quietly, the boys spending their time diligently working on their schoolwork, but in between classes the boys worked on a list of products and ideas for their shops. They planned on having the ultimate, one-stop Hogwarts shop, for muggleborns and muggle-raised halfblood, while at the same time catering to the muggle-curious purebloods.

But that didn’t mean the Horde ignored pranks.

Oh, no, it definitely didn’t.

One Ravenclaw that was overly aggressive to a first year ‘puff found herself strung with ribbons that read ‘bully’ and flashed a bright white. Another group of Slytherins that tried to attack the triplets, as a revenge/payback for the boys’ grandfather putting various members of their families in Azkaban, discovered that Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody had trained his grandsons well. **_Too_** well for the Slytherins’ wellbeing. The four seventh years and two sixth years, were found hanging from the dungeon’s ceiling by their robes. Remove the robe and they could get down, the problem being that height of the ceiling meant that doing so would force them to drop a good fifteen feet, and their wands were carefully tied in a bundle and hanging over a cauldron of wood-dissolving acid. Move the bundle, even fractionally, the wrong way and watch the wands fall.

And while the attackers had complained to their head of house, Snape had spent a lot of time watching the triplets and their Horde pack-mates, he was reluctantly forced to admire the brats and knew there was little chance of the triplets being found responsible. He scanned the dungeon scene, but the only magical signatures present were those of the attackers, not the triplets. Nor was there any indication of their wands having been used since charms the afternoon before, as Snape did a subtle scan of the castle’s wards for their wand-signatures and the last place it showed was the charms classroom and was nothing less than eighteen hours old. If only Snape had known that the Horde all had backup wands, things might have been different, but he didn’t and so he was only scanning for their Ministry registered wand-signatures, which deliberately hadn’t been used outside of their classes.

After his scans, Snape questioned the attackers on what their plans had been and finding out that the sixth and seventh years had planned to attack and injure, if not kill, three first years did not sit well with the potions master, regardless of the animosity between the two houses. As punishment, the attackers found themselves stripped of all privileges. Be it, prefect badges, trunks (of which Snape was the only Professor who knew about), Hogsmeade visiting rights, library passes, or lab passes. Messages had also been sent home, bemoaning the Gryffindor-ish actions of the attackers and their complete failure to possess any Slytherin-valued attributes, at all.

Then there were their school-wide pranks. After very careful consideration, the Horde had decided that school-wide pranks had to be harmless fun. And because there was no way for them to be absolutely certain that a student wouldn’t be allergic to an ingredient used in any of potions they liked, potions were ruled out, too. That left charms, runes and transfig, as their components. At least there, they could control the prank’s actions.

The Easter prank had a random selection of students, acquiring a companion. As they passed through the doors of the Great Hall, every third student from each house had a toy version of their house mascot appear; running, flying or slithering in the air at the student’s shoulder height. And the toys were clearly just that. Toys. The lions were plushies made from velvet or faux fur, in the full range of red tones, from pale pink through to a crimson so dark it appeared almost black. The eagles had tiny strips of leather or fabric in place of feathers and were in various different shades of blue from baby blue down to a deep rich navy. The badgers were in black and white and grey faux fur, but each one had a black and yellow scarf around its neck, the yellows going from a pale buttery colour to a bright and fiery orange/yellow. The snakes were made up of tiny interconnecting pieces of wood, glass or clay, each with minute engravings to mimic a snake’s scales and their eyes were glittering buttons, while strips of red leather appeared and disappeared just like a true snake’s tongue would. And each toy was in a completely separate shade, from its counterparts.

The end of year prank was a little simpler and didn’t happen until the last day. As each student, or staff member passed through the doors, both in and out of the Grand Tower, they were coated in glitter, all in their house colours. Students packed and boarded the carriages to the station, glitter sparkling in the morning sunlight. The sun, peeking through the clouds of early summer rainstorms, hit the glittering students and made the Express light up like a chapel with stained glass windows. As the train pulled into the station, the parents found themselves greeting their brightly coloured children, only to have said children head back towards the Express in search of the Horde.

The boys were laughing as they were dragged down the platform.

“How long is this going to last?” That year’s Head girl, Trinity, demanded, even as she smiled. Her smile was echoed by almost every student on the platform.

“The moment you leave the platform, it disappears.” Titan laughed.

“Doesn’t matter whether you apparate, portkey, floo or leave through the muggle exit.” Remy added.

“The platform is the catalyst, once you’ve set foot on it, the charm-sequence is complete and will end, once you step off of the platform.” Paddrick went on.

“That’s why Clarence and Juniper have already lost theirs…” Fred said, pointing at Clarence, the Head Boy, and Juniper Green, the Ravenclaw seventh year prefect who was Clarence’s girlfriend.

“… ‘cause they went back onto the train to find us.” George said.

“Oh, you lot...” Juniper laughed at them.

“I am so going to miss you cubs.” Clarence Boulder ruffled their hair.

“It’s not like you’re going far, Clarence.” Lee huffed.

“Yeah.” Ken laughed. “Your family owns [The Neep](green%20grocers%20in%20hogsmeade).” 

“You can come see us on weekends.” Titan said.

“Guys, I can’t come into the school, unless I’m on school business.” Clarence reminded.

“You don’t have to, we can meet you at the gates.” Paddrick said.

“But you can’t go to Hogsmeade until third year.” Clarence argued.

“So? We can sit on one side of the gate and you on the other.” Remy said.

“As long as we don’t cross the ward boarders, you or us, we’re fine.” Titan said.

“We meet up with Grampy every weekend.” Paddrick said as Moody joined them.

“The boys’ll show ya were we meet, they’ve got a row of white pebbles on each side of the ward-boundary, don’t cross them and you’re fine.” Moody told the graduating Head Boy.

“O-ka-ay…” Clarence replied cautiously.

“Don’t worry about it, Clarence, we won’t let you stuff up.” Paddrick grinned, cheekily.

“Oh, get out of here… Before I decide to take points.” Clarence huffed and turned to Moody. “Sir.” He nodded and headed for the nearest of the apparition points.

“Come on, boys.” Moody said. “Lee? You’re with us, your dad said there was talk of deployment in the next six to twelve months and that’s increased their training schedules. He’s got a week off in mid-July and the weekends in August, so you’re with us ‘til then.”

“Yes, Grampy.” Lee answered, happily enough, he had enjoyed staying with Moody and the triplets.

“George, Fred. Your parents are waiting, but you’ll still join us in a week or two. Ken? You mother’s got a surprise for you and it should keep you busy for a few days. Catch the knight bus over when you’re ready or send an owl and I’ll come fetch you.” Moody spoke to the other boys.

“Yes, Grampy.” The three replied.

The triplets’ summer was busy, but profitable. After sitting down and discussing it with Moody, Mr Jordan and Mr Towler, who was Ken’s surprise, the man being back on his feet… sort of. After discussing the matter with the three men, the Horde decided that the safest way forward for The Lion's Den businesses was to get them registered and lease or buy a small shopfront to use during the holidays. The downside to this was that the Hogwarts’ staff had to be told what they were selling to students. The upside was that they had plenty of space and no longer had to hide their transactions with students in other houses, in addition to this, the graduated seventh years now had a clearly determined point to return rented trunks to, to get their deposits back.

Pranks were fun and made most of the school laugh, they boys had taken on the challenge of making Snape and McGonagall laugh. So far, they’d succeeded with Snape twice and McGonagall once. Floating feathers, buttons that changed to beetles, balls of different coloured _lumos_ lights, a random selection of dancing fruit, feathers enlarged and given feet, goblets on the staff table suddenly reverting back to being birds. And most surprisingly, they had a small selection of potions, the list having been given to them by Snape of all people, that no one in the school, was allergic to the ingredients of. Potions like… a colour change potion that changed the colour of someone’s hair for an hour, the lightning potion that decreased someone’s weight for a few minutes, the fangs-for-all potion that gave someone fangs for two minutes and a second colour change potion but this one randomly changed the colour of someone’s skin for a few minutes. Knowing that no one was allergic to the ingredients and that none of the staff or students would be hurt or injured, went a long way but still, the Horde preferred to have two large pranks for the year, that affected the entire school, rather than a dozen small ones that might be mistaken as bullying if one student or house got caught more often. Hence the potions pranks being held back for the payback pranks.

And, as per their Prank Rules, the Horde retained an EE ranking in class, but all of them achieved an O in their exams. Mrs Weasley has rumoured to have been rendered silent in shock, but no proof was provided by the twins or their older brothers, so it was considered to be exaggeration on the twins’ part. The twins argued and swore that next year they’d have proof.

August before their third year, saw ‘The Lion’s Den; A One Stop Student Shop’ opening, a tiny shop that was open to the public. It was barely ten-foot wide and twenty-foot deep, but it was big enough for to have wiz-space doors on the walls, one for each boy and one for Tribus, that and a counter with a register in the middle of the room. The triplets had approached Florish and Blotts and bought the books to make up packs for the various years, for the core subjects and introduction packs for the muggleborn or raised. Thanks to their housemates, they were provided the stock lists for all seven years and were able to sort through the Room-acquired stock and pull out anything that was suitable. The twins bought a larger wiz-space from the Den, to enable them to have separate areas for wizard products, muggle products and Hogwarts products. Ken set up a number of ready-to-go fish aquariums and plant terrariums, in addition to his existing range of products.

And each of them had hired a couple of the older students, and not only lions, to help out, as even having extended their hours from 10an-1pm to 10am-3pm, they were still running flat out. Without having underage magic exemptions, they’d have never managed it, being able to ‘officially’ use magic in public, even if limited to the shop premises, was truly a godsend.

Far away in a different world, a pair of young women and a young man stood in front of a familiar archway, the chamber lit only by a small ball of bluebell flames, that floated above one of the women.

“Are you sure?” She asked her companions.

“My family are gone. Gran died last winter and mum and dad in the Dragonpox epidemic. There’s nothing for me, here.” The young man answered.

“Did you convert everything to ʛalleons?” The woman asked.

“All but the family heirlooms and the stuff that was found in the Lestranges’ manor.” He replied.

“Good, Neville. Luna? What about you? Going to change your mind?” The woman asked the third person.

“No, like Neville, there’s nothing here for me. Daddy’s gone, mummy’s gone, my friend Harry is gone, and my friends Neville and Hermione are going too.” Luna answered.

“What about you, Hermione? Your parents are still alive, you don’t have to go.” Neville told Hermione.

“My parents are muggles, Neville, and I obliviated them, it’s irreversible. They might be alive, but they’ll never know who I am. And losing Ginny, Ron, George and Molly to the second wave of the epidemic? I don’t get along with Percy all that well, Bill’s retreated to France with Fleur and Arthur's burying himself in his work. I doubt he’ll even notice that I’m gone.” Hermione whispered.

“Are you three going to talk all night?” A fourth voice cut into their conversation.

The three spun, wands at the ready, to see a ruined face.

“Malfoy?” Hermione gasped. “Crap, you scared the doxie-dung out of me.” She stood up straight and let the tension fall from her shoulders.

“You didn’t answer, Granger.” The blonde man commented.

“We’re following Harry.” Luna answered, completely unconcerned about talking to the badly scarred Slytherin.

“The Dragonpox epidemic took so much and left us with so little, that we’re getting out, Malfoy.” Neville said.

“Following Potter? You do realise that the chances of you ending up in the same place are miniscule? Right?” Malfoy warned.

“It’s still a better option than staying here.” Hermione sighed.

“Yes, I am well aware of that.” Malfoy drawled. “Which is why… I can’t believe I’m saying this…” He shook his head. “I never thought such words would come from my mouth, Granger, not directed at you, of all people.”

“Malfoy?” Hermione asked, beginning to get worried.

“I’m coming with you.” He said. “Gryffindors are the only ones that can even look at me, without cringing and you two are the only ones to not sneer at me, while Lovegood doesn’t even see the scars.”

“Why would we? You’re still Malfoy, under those scars.” Neville huffed.

“The Dragonpox took so many people and left so many so badly scarred, worse than me. I know I should be grateful just to survive… and thank you for that, Granger, your combining of the muggle-based treatments with magical potions saved my life. But all I see, is what was taken from me. My mother, my father, my godfather and my home, and it’s always there, right in front of me.” Malfoy whispered.

“And you think that following us… and Harry, will change that?” Hermione asked.

“Maybe, maybe not, but it’s unlikely to be any worse than here.” Malfoy shrugged. “I spoke to that Indian wizard you brought over, the one that was a parselmouth. I didn’t ask him what you had him translate, but I did ask if it confirmed Potter’s hypotheses about the veil and while he didn’t verbally answer, he nodded. That was enough for me. I couldn’t work out when you were going to do this, there were a number of dates that he would have considered important, so I made sure I was prepared.”

“What did you do?” Neville asked, a frown on his face.

“I asked Gringotts to inform me when you started to sell off assets. Then I did the same. Potter left Granger the Potter estate and when Madam Tonks and Professor Lupin’s son died, she also got the Black estates. I emptied all the Lestrange Family vaults of anything worth keeping and a selection of the Malfoy heirlooms into a wizard-space within a trunk and converted everything else to ʛalleons and gems.”

“Same here.” Neville nodded. “With the Longbottom and Rossi estates.”

“I brought the Lovegood and Rathdowney estates.” Luna said.

“I have the… Potter, Black, Granger, Dagworth-Granger and Wilton estates.” Hermione sighed.

“Dagworth-Granger?” Malfoy blinked.

“Yeah, apparently, my Great-grandfather was Hector Dagworth-Granger’s squib son, and Hector had no other children, so…?” Hermione grimaced.

“You are his magical heir.” Malfoy nodded in understanding.

“Yes.”

“Might I make a suggestion?” Malfoy nodded towards the veil. “We have limited time, before the next security sweep comes by. So… I would suggest we make a move. However, I would also suggest, that as we have no way of knowing where we shall emerge, that disillusionment charms might be a wise choice. That and to ensure that we arrive in the same place, we enter the veil, in contact with each other.”

“We had planned on holding hands…” Neville said.

“…but the disillusionment charms are a good idea.” Hermione nodded. “If one person casts them after we hold hands, we’ll still be able to see each other. How are you at them?”

“Not great. I preferred to be seen, not overlooked… at least until the Dragonpox and…” Malfoy gestured to his face.

“Fair enough. I’m pretty good. Neville? Luna?” Hermione asked.

“Nope, not me.” Neville shook his head. “I never got the hang of the illusion and disillusion type charms.”

“Oh, yes, I’m excellent at them, we used them all the time, when we went looking for daddy’s creatures. They were the first things I learnt.” Luna answered.

“Great. Malfoy? Where’s your stuff?” Hermione asked.

“Here.” Malfoy held up a dragonhide rucksack, in the style that was favoured by many muggleborns.

“Good, if you’re coming with us, come on.” She held out a hand, knowing that this could be the tipping point, if Malfoy pulled out, they would only have a few seconds to act before he could call for help, but if he was genuine…?

Malfoy looked at Hermione steadily before crossing the chamber and stopping beside her, his fingers twitching as they closed around hers.

“Lovegood? Ready when you are.” He said.

“Call me Luna, please. Being called Lovegood reminds me too much of your Aunt.” Luna pulled out her wand.

“Wait!” Two more voices called. Turning to the chamber’s door, the four saw Arthur and Percy Weasley.

“Wait. Please, wait.” Percy called, but other than stepping into the camber with his father, he made no move to approach them.

“Why should we?” Luna said.

“We have nothing to stay for.” Neville added.

Arthur slowly reached into his pocket with one hand, the other holding his wand by the tip, rather than the hilt. He pulled out a shrunken trunk.

“Take this? Please?” He begged.

“What is it?” Hermione frowned.

“The twins’ shop.” Arthur answered.

“Not exactly the _**shop**_ , but a copy of all their records, a listing of all their products and all their notes on designing, making, manufacturing and advertising.” Percy corrected. “And samples of each product. Plus, Harry's share of their profits, they kept a trunk which they put his ʛalleons in.”

“Lee was going through George’s office and found the twins’ journals, apparently Harry was their partner. He gave them the start-up ʛalleons, so the twins made him their silent partner and gave him a percentage of the shop’s profits.” Arthur added.

“Fred and George are both gone, now, and George left the shop to Lee and Angelina. It was McGonagall that warned Angelina what she thought you were going to do, and Angelina and Lee put the trunk together for Harry. Take it. If you find Harry, give it to him? Please?” Percy begged.

The four in front of the veil exchanged looks and shrugged. Malfoy released Hermione’s hand and crossed to stand in front of the Weasley men, he studied them carefully before heaving a sigh.

“Give it here.” He opened a pocket on his rucksack and taking the shrunken trunk from Arthur, dropped it into the pocket, then he swung the rucksack by the straps, up over his shoulder and onto his back. He made his way back to Hermione’s side and stood ready.

“If I may?” Arthur asked. “You don’t know what you’re going into. You need all the strength you can get. If Miss Lovegood casts the disillusionment charms over four adults, that will lower her core levels significantly, particularly as she’s only been out of the hospital for a week. Percy’s been working with me for the last month and we’ve got quite good a co-casting. Let us cast the disillusion charms, we can set them to not dissipate without a password.”

Another shared look and Hermione nodded.

“Thank you, Arthur.” She said. “Password is to be 'Potter', please."

[“ _A facie cecidimus. Stricta ad finem… **Potter**.” _](Fade%20from%20sight.%20Finite%20restricted%20to%E2%80%A6%20Potter)The two redheads chanted as they pointed their wands and waved them over the four young people before turning and heading for the door.

“Oh, and the access password for the trunk is the same as the map. Lee said, you’d know what he meant.” Arthur half turned and spoke to a seemingly empty chamber.

“Good luck.” Percy let a single tear run down his cheek, but he never looked back, his shoulders rigid.

The chamber door swung closed, silently.

“Shall we?” Hermione held up her hands, a wand in one, Malfoy sighed but took the other, Luna stepped over and unhesitatingly took Malfoy’s other hand and Neville held Luna’s.

“Let’s.” Malfoy answered and nodded to Hermione.

As one the four took a deep breath and followed Hermione as she led them into the so-called Veil of Death and into its darkness.

Neville opened his eyes and looked around. “Oh, crap.” He whispered.

Luna opened her eyes and looked around. “Oh, dear.” She whispered.

Draco opened his eyes and looked around. “Oh, you have got to be joking.” He whispered.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. “Oh, bollocks.” She swore.


	16. Chapter 16

_“Let’s.” Malfoy answered and nodded to Hermione._

_As one the four took a deep breath and followed Hermione as she led them into the so-called Veil of Death and into its darkness._

_Neville opened his eyes and looked around. “Oh, crap.” He whispered._

_Luna opened her eyes and looked around. “Oh, dear.” She whispered._

_Draco opened his eyes and looked around. “Oh, you have got to be joking.” He whispered._

_Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. “Oh, bollocks.” She swore._

Hermione sat up and reacted automatically, as two things fell towards the floor. Her hands reached out and clutched at whatever the items were, her fingers closing about familiar piece of wood and what felt like a handful of worms. Lifting her hands to where she could see them, her eyes confirmed that, yes, that was her wand and no, it wasn’t a handful of worms, it was the strings of her beaded handbag.

A further look around her confirm two more things. One, this was clearly her room in her parents’ house in Crawley, and two, there were pictures of her with her parents. But given the décor of the room and the age she was in the pictures, it was more likely that she’d time travelled, than that the obliviate had finally been reversed. As she climbed to her feet, it became obvious that time travel was involved.

Her reflection in the full-length mirror showed that she was back to being a bushy haired and bucktoothed child, again. Even if she was wearing the same clothes she’d had on as she stepped into the veil with Luna, Neville and Malfoy.

“Oh, gods.” She whispered. “How do I contact them? I can’t use my wand, not now, the underage registry will pick it up.” She paced from one side of the room to the other. “What to do? What to do?” She whispered, her shoulders hunched and her head tilted towards the floor. She paced like this for a few minutes, before looking at her desk, with its exercise-book-journal. She began to walk towards it. “Time and date. I need to know what they are, but I also can’t be seen, by myself or my paren-…” She came sharp halt. “Wait.” She looked at her reflection in the mirror again. “Time travel doesn’t change the traveller…” She whispered. “Unless…” Her jaw fell and her shoulders slumped. “Unless Croaker was right. Time Turners turn time around you, but a Time Reverter, reverts time **_through_** the wearer, making time reverse and their physical bodies revert in age, while their memories, which are intangible, remained untouched.” She reached for the wall, needing something to hold her upright. “Oh, Gods, do we have to live through that again?” Her mind raced. Who was right? Croaker? Or Harry, with his someplace else, theory?

She jerked in shock as a thought ran through her mind. “What if they’re both right? What if we’ve been sent someplace else **_and_** Reverted, too?” Her head tilted. “Does that mean… Are there two Hermione Grangers, here? Was there ever a Hermione Granger, here? Have I merged with the existing Hermione? Or… Have I taken her place?” She looked at the pictures on the walls. “I remember most of these, so I can cross off the question of whether she existed. But that leaves me with… am I the only Hermione or are there two?” She glanced at the door. “One way to find out.”

She eased the door open and stepped out into the semi-darkened hallway, thankful that dawn was approaching, at least she could see where she was going. As she moved down the hall, she glanced in each room, family bathroom – empty, guest bedroom – empty, second guest bedroom – empty, and finally… Her parents’ bedroom. She quietly opened the door a bare crack, unsure of what she would find. A glance, not towards her parents’ bed, that would require opening the door further, but towards her mother’s dressing table and its mirror-reflected image, answered her questions… And created more.

With her parents’ asleep in their bed and her room being the only room to indicate occupation, she would be forgiven for assuming that she was the only Hermione Jean Granger in this… place? time? Which was it? Was it a different world? Or just a time reversion?

How to find out? First, she needed to know the date.

Hermione crept her way down the wide stairs and into a room to the left, across the lushly carpeted floor to a large desk. There she sidled around the desk to stand beside the chair that was tucked slightly into the desk’s foot-well. She reached across the desk and as quietly as she could, she slid the day-to-a-page diary towards her. Opening it she studied the date.

Tuesday the 18th of June 1991.

“Oh, good grief. I haven’t started Hogwarts, yet.” She whispered. “McGonagall hasn’t even been. That won’t happen for another week. What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” She looked down at the clothes. “Well I suppose the first thing that needs to happen is to find some age-appropriate clothing. Then work out how to get a message to Luna, Neville and Malfoy.” She wandered back up the stairs, muttering under her breath. “Easiest way is to send a patronus, but… de-aging or Reverting, as the case may, usually affects the core, so is mine stable? Enough to cast a patronus? Otherwise, it means waiting until McGonagall’s been and visiting Diagon and the post owl office… or…. I could try and recreate the mirrors that Sirius gave Harry… Hmm… That could keep me busy for a fortnight. Mum and dad go to work during the day, that leaves me plenty of time to sort through the marauders’ crap.” She entered her room before something occurred to her.

“Oh… if mum and dad aren’t home, I can apparate to Diagon Alley. And apparition doesn’t register as being cast, because while you use your wand as a focus, you aren’t so much casting as willing yourself to be somewhere else. And the ambient magic there is enough to mask me if I put up glamours. Then I can send an owl to… oh, hell, why can’t I just apparate staright to Luna’s? Then we can floo call Neville, who can floo Malfoy… or send him an owl? I don’t know, Neville would know which is the safest option.” She nodded and surveyed her room. “I need to hide my wand and bag for the moment, I can’t afford to have mum or dad find them. At least not until McGonagall’s been, then it won’t matter so much. But for now…?” She quickly lifted a print of a unicorn, that looked exceptionally like a real unicorn, and balanced her wand on the inside of the rear or the frame. “And my bag…?” The sight of the blue, pink and yellow floral briefcase-like satchel made her wince. “Oh, god, and I thought that was the height of schoolbag fashion? Ugh… Oh, well, it’ll do for now. I can get something more suitable and pass it off, to mum and dad, as being recommended by McGonagall.” She dropped the satchel on the bed, on top of her beaded bag and went hunting for some clothes.

Ten minutes later she was ready to face the day, wearing denim shorts, a sleeveless button-down shirt and a pair of ballet flats on her feet.

Two hours later, her parents were ready to leave for the day.

“Mum?” Hermione waited until the last possible moment, to ask.

“Yes, dear?” Mrs Jean Mary Granger, nee Sampson replied.

“Can I go to the library? Please? Oh, and the mall? I need a new journal. Please?” She tried to sound like a first year asking for help on an assignment, but she wasn’t sure how she came across.

“Of course, dear, but I’d prefer you to spend more time at the library than the mall.” Jean answered.

“Thanks, mum.” Hermione smiled.

“Have you got enough money?” Ian Granger asked.

“Uh… I don’t know… Let me check.” Hermione replied, before darting up the stairs and digging into her satchel to find her tiny denim flower-embroidered wallet. Back downstairs, she opened the wallet to find a £5 note and a few odd coins. She had plenty of gold, in a trunk in her beaded bag, but little in the way of muggle money and it was better to leave that untouched, until her parents weren't around to question it.

“Um… I’ve got £6 and 80p, daddy.” Hermione said, counting quickly.

“And while that’s enough for a new journal, knowing you, my little love, you’re going to want a new pen to go with it and of course, you’ll want to drop into The Works and possibly Waterstones.” Ian laughed, gently.

“Possibly…” Hermione ducked her head, guiltily, like she’d been caught with a hand in the biscuit barrel.

Jean and Ian both chuckled and pulled out their wallets.

“Here, lovey.” Jean handed her two more £5 notes.

“And tuck these in behind your library card. Don’t spend them if you don’t need to, alright?” Ian held out a £10 note and another £5 note. “Oh, and here…” He trickled some £1 coins into her hand.

“Thank you, mum. Thank you, daddy.” She beamed at them.

“You’re welcome, lovey. Now, we need to get a move on. Do you want us to drop you at the mall? If so, go grab your bag, a jacket and an umbrella, it’s supposed to rain later.” Jean frowned as she looked out the window.

“Yes, please.” Hermione dashed back to her room to fetch her satchel, with her beaded bag inside it, her wand came out of its hiding place and went into her satchel. As she left her room, she grabbed a denim jacket and the polka-dotted umbrella, hanging on the back of the door.

“Ready!” She yelled as she bounced down the stairs. Really…? Acting like a child wasn’t _**nearly**_ as hard as she’d thought it was going to be.

Half an hour, Hermione found a spot, obscured behind a tired old truck, and withdrew her wand from her bag. Holding her wand pointing towards the ground, she focused on the odd shape of Luna’s house. She took a deep breath and disapparated.

Crack.

She opened her eyes to see exactly what she expected to see. The slightly distorted shape of the Rookery. She trotted up the path and lifted her hand to rap on the door, only to have it open.

“Hermione?” Luna looked the most afraid that Hermione had ever seen her.

“Hi Luna.” What else could she say?

“Oh, thank heavens.” Luna lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Hermione. “I thought I was going **_sane_**. Except, my bag was in my hand when I woke up. I didn’t know what to do. Thank heavens daddy is as oblivious as ever.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that feeling. We need to find Neville and Malfoy. Get a plan together for finding Harry.”

“Oh, dear. That’s not going to be easy. Finding Harry, I mean. Come and look.” Luna drew Hermione into the house and down into an underground basement. “This is where we keep all the old copies of the newspapers, ours and the Prophet. This is what I found.” Luna handed Hermione an old copy of the Daily Prophet.

The headlines took up nearly a quarter of the front page.

**_VOLDEMORT DEFEATED_ **

**_Dumbledore victorious again!_ **

_Sirius Black, James, Lily and Harry Potter dead._

“Oh, dear…” Hermione whispered.

“There’s more” Luna handed over a second Prophet.

**_CROUCH JNR AND LESTRANGES DEAD!_ **

**_Executed after found guilty of attacking Aurors’ child with cruciatus._ **

_Longbottoms injured but expected to recover, infant awarded Lestrange estate in compensation._

“Oh… oh, Neville… his… oh, my….” Hermione didn’t know what to say.

“Yes, form what I can gather from the prophet, Neville was only fifteen months old when Bellatrix Lestrange put him under the cruciatus, but his parents were able to save him. It did, however, drain his core, to dangerous levels. Now, we know that Neville is a powerful wizard, but the Neville that was here before, was little more than a squib, so how that’s to be resolved, I don’t know.” Luna explained.

“How can we contact him?”

“Patronus?” Luna asked blandly.

“No, don’t even think it. From what I can figure out we haven’t… I think when we stepped through the veil, we were sent to a different universe, but also to a different time, I think we’ve Time Reverted not Time Turned.”

Luna blinked in surprise. “Well, that would answer a lot.” She hummed. “A difference universe? That would explain the differences, Neville’s parents being alive and Harry not. And also, this…” A third sheet of the Prophet was held up.

**DUMBLEDORE DEMANDS ALL SUSPECTED DEATH-EATERS BE GIVEN VERITASERUM**

**_Those found guilty executed._ **

**_The innocent set free._ **

Followed by a list of the guilty and the innocent. And right there in the rather short list of the innocent were two familiar names. Severus Tobias Snape and Lucius Abraxas Malfoy.

“Malfoy’s father is innocent?” Hermione gasped.

“According to the Prophet and daddy, Bellatrix put Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black under the _imperius_ while they were still at Hogwarts.” Luna answered. “Dumbledore insisted on questioning them all under veritaserum and truth spells. Bellatrix was the one to admit it and said she gave Lucius and Narcissa to Voldemort and that they were still under it, the Unspeakables were called in and they tested all the suspects and found that quite a few were under _imperius_. They broke them free of the curse and purged all potions, charms, hexes and curses from all the suspects before they went to trial. Dumbledore still offered Snape the potions position, but from what I can find in the Prophet, he’s doing a good job, teaching well and is fair to all houses.”

“Oh, my.”

“Yes. Oh, my, indeed.” Luna nodded. “Lucius is still on the board of Governors, but he seems to be working with Dumbledore, even if they don't get along personally, they’ve returned a number of classes and have put requests to the Wizengamot to permit the WFS to contact the families of muggleborn earlier, but nothing had been approved, yet.”

“That’s different, alright.”

“Yes, it is.” Luna agreed.

“So… how do we go about find Neville and contacting Malfoy? I mean Draco, not Lucius.”

“I think the easiest way is to just floo-call to Malfoy manor and ask for Draco., then do the same to Longbottom manor.”

“And what are we supposed to say? Someone’s going to ask why?” Hermione sighed in frustration at her friend.

“Oh, we let them think that I inherited mummy seer abilities.”

“Seer? Did you?”

“A little bit, but not exactly the same type of Sight. I don’t See. I just Know. I just Knew which issues of the Prophet to dig out to get the answers to questions I just knew you were going to want the answers to. I Knew where to find the answers, even if I didn’t Know what the questions were.”

“Oh… okay… That might work.” Hermione nodded slowly while she thought about it. “But how are you going to explain me being with you?”

“Same. I just Know that you, Neville, Draco and me are going to be friends and I wanted you all to meet. I can say daddy went and collected you because I asked him to. No one will think twice about accepting it, daddy won’t remember if he did or didn’t and mummy was well known for her Sight, at Hogwarts. It’s the reason daddy and his paper were never targeted, no matter what he wrote, even at the height of the war.” Luna said.

“Uh…” Hermione “Okay, lead the way.”

Luna laughed, her delicate wispy laugh and led the way back into the house upper house and into the kitchen.

“Allow me.” She waggled her eyebrows and reached for the floo-powder. She tossed a handful into the fireplace and waited until the flames went green. “Malfoy manor.”

Draco leant back against the headboard of his bed, wondering what the hell he’d done to deserve this. Then he thought about how he’d treated Potter and Granger and shrugged. It was kind of obvious. The question was, how did he correct it? He heaved a sighed and picked up his quill again, only to have an elf appear. His mother had sent for him.

“Young Master? Mistress is calling for young master.” The little she-elf wrung her fingers together.

“Where is mother?” Draco didn’t want to go, it was so painful to see her, but it was also very rude not to answer when called.

“Mistress is in the arrival room, young master.” The elf answered.

“Tell her that I’m on my way down.” He ordered.

He waited until the elf popped out, before standing up and using the wand he’d brought with him through the veil, to shrink his bag and summon it to his hand. He slid it into his pocket and left the room. Down the hall to the stairs and down the grand staircase to the main floor, along another hallway and around the corner and Draco took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders before entering the arrival room.

“Mother? You asked for me?”

“Yes, darling.” Narcissa Malfoy looked, for lack of a better descriptive, bemused. “I shall be leaving shortly to visit your Aunt andromeda, but while I’m gone, Luna Lovegood and Hermione Dagworth-Granger would like to know if you would care to join them and Mr Neville Longbottom, on a visit to the Rookery for the day?”

Draco blinked. “Mother?”

“Draco?”

“You would permit me to visit? Alone?” Draco couldn’t recall ever being allowed to visit anyone by himself.

“My dragon, you are due to attend Hogwarts this coming September. If I do not consider you capable of visiting friends for a day, how can I expect you to thrive at Hogwarts for months?” Narcissa replied gently. “But of course, the choice is yours. You may go if you wish, or stay home, if you do not.”

Draco said nothing for a few moments, but it was clear that he was thinking hard. When he spoke it was calm and decisive. “Yes, mother. I would like to join them.”

“Very well, be sure to leave your lesson wand in your room and don’t forget to wear you Heir-Ring, it has a portkey to return here, in an emergency. If you wish to take anything with you, I suggest you go and fetch it, now. Miss Lovegood said the floo would be open for half an hour, but that was nearly ten minutes ago.” Narcissa warned.

“I… I think I should take a gift for each Miss Dagworth-Granger, Miss Lovegood and Mr Longbottom.” Draco hesitated. "Perhaps a book?"

“May I ask why?”

“Uncle Sev has mentioned Miss Lovegood, but not Miss Dagworth-Granger. He has, however, stated that the Dagworth-Granger line died out. If Miss Dagworth-Granger is indeed descended from Hector, then it will be via his squib son and may result in her not being aware of the niceties of wizarding society. And Miss Lovegood’s mother was a Ravenclaw, according Uncle Sev, anyway. The chances are that Miss Lovegood may follow her mother to the eyrie.” Draco answered. “And father said that while Longbottom may turn out to be a squib, but he is very gifted with plants.”

“I see. I had not considered that. Very well. Fetch the books, but warned… if they are valuable, I may not allow you to gift them away.”

“No, mother, I was thinking of a pair of biographies, Newt Scamander for Miss Lovegood and that one on Hector Dagworth-Granger for Miss Dagworth-Granger and I know we have multiple copies of them both. I’m not certain about which book for Longbottom.”

“Oh, yes, we do have a few copies of the Dagworth-Granger book. But why the one on Scamander?”

“Uncle Sev said that Miss Lovegood’s father was interested in the more… obscure creatures. And it is an interesting read. Also, I would like to loan an etiquette primer to Miss Dagworth-Granger, that and suggest an introduction to the wizarding world handbook, just so that she has an idea of what to expect.”

“I would check first, dear, even though she may not have interacted with our world, she may be aware of it. Take the etiquette primer from my… wait. Dilly?”

A popping sound and the she-elf stood in front of Narcissa.

“Mistress is calling Dilly? How can Dilly be serving?”

“From my office, fetch me the etiquette book called ‘Etiquette; Manners for the modern witch’. From the main library, fetch me one of the secondary copies of the Newt Scamander biography and one of the secondary copies of the Hector Dagworth-Granger biography. And a secondary copy of Winogrand’s Wonderous Water Plants by Selina Sapworthy. Remove the two biographies and the plant book from the library directory, they are to be gifts. Also, fetch a satchel for Draco, he will be taking the books with him this morning.”

“Yes, mistress.” The elf popped away and while he waited, Draco went to the cloak room and chose a light, summer-weight linen robe in a soft grey with darker grey trim.

Another pop and the elf returned. “Mistress, Dilly has removed three books from the directory and placed four books in young master’s bag.” She held the bag out and Draco accepted it.

“Thank you, Dilly, you may return to your duties.” Narcissa waved the elf away. “Very well, Draco, you may floo to the Rookery, whenever you’re ready. But don’t hesitate to portkey away, if your do not feel comfortable.”

“Yes, mother.” Thankfully Narcissa had turned to retrieve her own cloak, otherwise she may have seen Draco roll his eyes and shake his head in amusement.

Five minutes later, he stepped out of the green flames and into Luna’s kitchen.

“Oh, good, you’re here. Hermione’s making tea and I’m about to floo Longbottom manor.” Luna greeted him. “Through that door.” She pointed a door that led downwards. “We’re in the basement. I think explanations should wait until we are all together.”

Draco blinked and taking a deep breath, nodded. “Very well. I shall curb my impatience.”

‘That would be appreciated.” Luna nodded back and Draco followed her directions down the stairs.

“Malfoy.” Granger nodded.

“Granger.” He responded. “Did you ever get around to claiming your Dagworth-Granger inheritance?”

“I did. We had anticipated accessing the veil in May, on the third anniversary of Harry’s… veiling, but claiming the estate, put us back a few weeks, so we decided to wait until the anniversary of Sirius Black's veiling.”

“The fight in the Ministry?” Draco asked.

“Yes, the Prophet called is the Battle of the DoM, in their series of articles about the war.” Hermione replied.

“I see.” Draco moved around a table to stand beside a seat. “Not to be rude, but was the estate in a bad way? Just trying to fill in time, until Lovegood fetches Longbottom.”

“Ah, in that case… No, not bad, just complicated. A lot of real estate to get through and a massive collection of libraries. Each house had a library, as did each vault and in some cases, more than one. It took us three weeks to empty the houses and add combine all of the libraries together, then Luna suggested that as we are hoping to be in the same place as Harry, I should separate the Potter library from mine. And Neville raised the possibility of Sirius being here, too, and suggested removing the Black library and also storing their things in a trunk dedicated to just their individual estates.”

Draco nodded. “Yes, I could see that working.”

They were interrupted by the sound of feet on the floor above them. Feet that appeared on the stairs and slowly descended.

A chubby-faced Neville joined them, followed by Luna, who was carrying a tray of cauldron cakes.

“Hermione. Malfoy.” Neville nodded to each of them. “This isn’t our world, Hermione.”

“I know. Luna’s been catching me up. The differences are… significant.” Hermione answered.

“In what way?” Draco asked.

“Well, to start with… my parents are both alive and well, and still in the Auror corps.” Neville said, looking a little wild around the eyes.

“Excuse me?” Draco blinked at them. “You said… what…?”

“My parents are still Aurors.”

“I see. Lovegood? Can you fill in the gaps?” Draco asked.

“Did I ask you to call me Luna?” The blonde girl asked. “I thought I remembered that, but given everything else, I could be mistaken.”

“No, Lov- Luna, you did. I apologise for ignoring your request.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I just wasn’t certain. And yes, I can fill in the details.” She pulled out a number of copies of the Daily Prophet and laid them on the table. “Here we are. As near as I can figure, there are two main points that our world differs from this one. One? In our world Voldemort made horcruxes, in this one he didn’t. And two? Dumbledore. Either the prophecy differed, or Dumbledore wasn’t as focused on it. Regardless, when he placed the Fidelius for the Potters, he also placed wards to alert him to anyone with a DarkMark entering the wards. That let him get there in time to stop Voldemort. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in time to stop him from killing Sirius Black, James Potter, Lily Potter and baby Harry. But he did manage to stop Voldemort. He fronted the Wizengamot and demanded that anyone that bore the DarkMark or was suspected of sympathising with the Death-Eaters, be questioned under _veritaserum_.” Luna poured herself a cup of tea and turned to Draco.

“This is where things change for you, personally. Bellatrix Lestrange was one of the first caught, when she, her husband, his brother and Bartemius Crouch Jnr, attacked the Longbottoms. While Alice and Frank fought with the men, Bellatrix cast the cruciatus on baby Neville. But the men were up against highly trained Aurors, who’d been expecting just such an attack. The Longbottoms won, Alice blew Crouch’s hand off, Frank shattered Rabastan’s wand arm and then went after Rodolphus, blinding him, while Alice took on Bellatrix. The details weren’t given to the public, but Alice prevailed, and Bellatrix was arrested, she was the first to be tried. Under _veritaserum_ , Bellatrix admitted that many of Voldemort's army were actually under the _imperius_ curse. The Unspeakables were called in and every one of those due to stand trial were assessed for curses, potions, charms and hexes and where necessary the curse-breakers and healers were called in.” She took a mouthful of cauldron cake and munched on it, swallowing a mouthful of tea to wash it down with, before continuing.

“Bellatrix admitted to casting the _imperius_ on both Draco's mother and father, while they were still at school. Her plan was to hand the two of them over to Voldemort, while at the same time having Arcturus Black killed, leaving Lucius as Heir Black. With them under Voldemort's control, that would give him access to the Malfoy and Black finances as well as the Lestrange, Avery, Goyle and Crabbe estates. Things didn’t go the way she planned. Arcturus survived her assassin, as did Abraxas Malfoy and Radastian Lestrange, leaving Voldemort with the significantly lesser fortunes of the Crabbe, Goyle and Avery families. Then of course, he went after the Potters, personally. And paid the price for it.”

“Well, shite.” Neville exclaimed.

“Yes, precisely. Due to Bellatrix’s attack on you, Neville, and her lack of remorse for it, the Wizengamot had her executed, along with any other Death-Eater they found irredeemable, which was most of them. Less than a dozen were spared.” She tapped a folded page of one copy of the Prophet. Radastian made you his heir and swore that on his death, the name Lestrange was to become extinct. He died three years ago.”

“Okay…” Neville grimaced. “Not sure I want it, but I suppose I can always use it to do things the bitch wouldn’t have approved of.”

“Good man. Bella was nuts.” Draco nodded sharply. “Only time I have ever been grateful to a Weasley, was when Molly Weasley rid us of her.”

“Oh, yes, I heartily agree.” Luna nodded.

“Anything else?” Draco gestured to the strewn-out papers.

“Just that muggleborn numbers are increasing. In 1989 Hogwarts had five, in 1990 there were six. In 1991, in our world there were five. Here? It’s estimated that there should be eight. In 1992, they’re expecting ten and in 1993, twelve. And the numbers are likely to reach as high as twenty by 1998.”

Draco exchanged a look of astonishment with Hermione.

“Are you serious? Twenty muggleborns in one year?” He asked.

“Oh, it’s not just the muggleborn numbers rising. Registrations for Hogwarts are increasing by 10% per year.” Hermione sighed. “It’s a magical baby boom. The Weasleys are not the only family with large numbers of children. Neville’s got two younger siblings. The Greengrass’ have three girls, now, and a son. The Diggory’s have three boys. The Fawcetts have a son and daughter. The list goes on. 1998’s intake should be almost double 1991’s.”

“Oh, shite…” Neville breathed.

“So how the hell do we find Potter?”

“The only chance we have is Hogwarts.” Luna said. “I tried to send him an owl this morning, but Phillip, daddy's owl, just looked at me. That means that either Harry’s not here or, more likely, he’s changed his name, magically and possibly his appearance. Hogwarts…? Well…? DADA and quidditch are our best chances of identifying him, particularly if he’s changed his appearance.”

“And that’s where you come in, Malfoy. You teased, tormented and made Harry’s life at Hogwarts miserable, but to do that you pretty much stalked him. Between the four of us, we should be able to identify him, even if he’s hiding.” Hermione said and watched as Draco spluttered.

“I didn’t-” He started.

“Yes, you did.” Hermione and Neville said together. 

"Mind... he reciprocated by stalking you in fifth-year." Hermione laughed.

“Which reminds me.” Luna put both her hands on the table. “I need help. I need to be in your year and the only way I can see that happening is with a permanent aging potion.” The other three gasped. “I have the recipe, mummy created it, but I’m not in Draco or Hermione’s league when it comes to actual brewing.”

“And how are you going to make people understand what you did?” Neville asked.

“What I did? What did I do? It wasn’t me, it happened in Diagon, someone must have put something in my drink…” Luna used her big innocent blue eyes to their full extent and let her chin wobble, while tears began to form.

“Oh, hell. Stop, stop, for god’s sake, **_stop!”_** Draco held his hands up in front of his face, anything to block the sight of Luna's tears.

“Alright, then…” Neville chuckled. “No one’s going to question that.”

“No, I highly doubt it.” Draco huffed. “Do you have a lab? And the ingredients? Or do we need to go shopping?”

“Lab’s over there.” Luna pointed to a dark shadow within a shadow. “The ingredients cupboard is full and under stasis, daddy restocks it every year, on the spring solstice.” She handed over a carefully written out potion recipe for Draco to read.

“Oh, this is easy. Bewtween us? We can do this in an hour. Granger? You get this part. Longbottom? You and Luna get to do our running and some cutting.” Draco pulled out his wand and conjured a chalkboard and chalk. “See here?” He copied the recipe to the chalkboard and circled various sections in different colours. “Luna? You get the blue section. Granger the white, Longbottom the red, I’ll take the green and when we get to the yellow, Granger and I will work together.” He looked at the other three. “We can have this done inside the hour, then it’s up to Luna when she does this.”

“Daddy mentioned going to Diagon tomorrow, I’ll go with him.” Luna shrugged.

“You know you’re going to end up in St. Mungo's for tests, right?” Draco asked. “Once they work out it’s irreversible, they’re going to have to amend your WFS file. They may ask you to give an oath that you’ll accept the alterations.”

“I can do that.” Luna smiled.

“Alright, let’s get brewing.” Neville laughed. “I never thought I’d be voluntarily involved in brewing potions with a Malfoy.”

“Can you imagine the expression on Potter’s face.” Draco snorted and the others laughed.

“Oh, I hope we find them.” Hermione fretted as she followed Luna and Draco into the lab.

“We will. Potter can’t hide from us.” Draco assured her.


	17. Chapter 17

_“Alright, let’s get brewing.” Neville laughed. “I never thought I’d be voluntarily involved in brewing potions with a Malfoy.”_

_“Can you imagine the expression on Potter’s face.” Draco snorted and the others laughed._

_“Oh, I hope we find them.” Hermione fretted as she followed Luna and Draco into the lab._

_“We will. Potter can’t hide from us.” Draco assured her._

Minerva McGonagall entered the Headmaster’s office and crossed to his desk.

“Ah, Professor McGonagall. I understand that you’ve been visiting the muggleborns coming into first year? How is that progressing?” The Headmaster twinkled gently as he spoke.

“I have.” She stated bluntly. “The last visit, the Granger’s. It was… unusual… It raised a few questions.”

“Minerva, my dear, we cannot take muggleborns from their families-” Dumbledore started.

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with that.” She disagreed. “Perhaps it would be best if I were to show you the memory? May we use your pensieve?”

Dumbledore lifted his brows, it was such an unusual request from his deputy.

“Did they not approve?” He asked, wanting an idea of the reason for such a thing.

“Initially, they were hesitant to even speak with me, until I gave them my name. Then, Mrs Granger smiled and said ‘Professor McGonagall? From Hogwarts? Oh, lovely, come on in, we’re out the back.’ And escorted me through the house to an outdoor picnic area.” McGonagall replied.

Dumbledore’s eyes widened. “They knew who you were? How?”

“This would be much quicker, viewing then event.” McGonagall hinted, broadly.

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it would. Very well, I shall fetch a pensieve.” Dumbledore said and did exactly that.

McGonagall lifted her wand to her temple and pulled a long strand of filmy blue fluff from her mind and allowed it to float down onto the surface of the pensieve. Looking at Dumbledore she nodded, and the two Professors entered the memory.

_A woman with wavy brown hair opened the door._

_“Can I help you?” The woman asked, clearly not wanting to deal with whatever was coming._

_“Good afternoon, may I speak with Mr and Mrs Granger?” The memory of McGonagall asked._

_“I’m sorry, we don’t work on weekends. Appointments can be made for anytime between 9am and 5.30pm, Monday to Friday. Please contact the practice for further details.” The woman went to close the door._

_“It’s not… practice(?) related, more of a personal matter.” McGonagall said._

_“I’m sorry, but we prefer all our appointments to be during business hours, Mrs… ma'am.” The woman trailed off._

_“My name is Minerva McGonagall and I’m a teacher at a-” was as far as McGonagall got, before being interrupted._

_“McGonagall? From Hogwarts?” The woman asked sharply._

_“Well, yes… in fact... I’m the deputy Headmistress.” McGonagall blinked._

_“Oh, my. You should have said. Oh, please, come in. Come in. We’re out the back enjoying the cool change.” The door was opened, and McGonagall was ushered in._

_Down a hallway and into a large kitchen with floor to ceiling windows that opened out onto a paved patio. At a table sat three adults and four children._

**“Lucius Malfoy? What on earth is he doing here?” Dumbledore asked.**

**“Wait. You’ll see.” McGonagall replied.**

_“We have a new guest, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall.” The woman said. “Oh, where are my manners? Allow me to introduce everyone. I’m Jean Granger, Hermione’s mother. This is my husband, Ian.” She gestured to a man with neatly trimmed greying hair._

_“Mr Granger.” McGonagall held out her hand to shake his, but Ian Granger turned her hand palm-down and lifted it to his lips._

_“Professor, welcome to our home.” He greeted her as genteelly as any pureblood would have._

**“Someone’s been teaching them pureblood courtesies.” Dumbledore frowned, as he watched his colleague’s memory.**

**“Indeed, and I personally believe all students should be taught such manners.” McGonagall added.**

_“And I’m sure you know Lucius and Narcissa?”_

_“Professor McGonagall.” Lucius and Narcissa had both stood, quickly followed by the children._

_“Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy. Good afternoon.” McGonagall fell back on her ingrained manners and dipped a curtsy._

_“Their son, Draco.” Jean indicated a blonde boy that McGonagall knew to be starting Hogwarts that year._

_“Professor.” The boy gave her a slight bow._

_“Mr Malfoy.” McGonagall dipped the barest of curtsies._

_“Our daughter, Hermione.” The girl had wild bushy chestnut hair, that someone was attempting to tame and only partially succeeding._

_“Professor.” The girl glanced at Narcissa and dipped a deeper curtsy._

_“Miss Granger.”_

_“Hermione and Draco’s friends, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.”_

**"Longbottom?" Dumbledore asked.**

**"Just watch." McGonagall replied.**

_“Good afternoon, Professor.” The two chirped brightly._

_“Mr Longbottom, Miss Lovegood.”_

_“Professor.” The two replied._

_“Won’t you join us, Professor? We’ve just returned from the Alley. Diagon is the main Alley, isn’t it?” Jean offered McGonagall a chair._

_“It is.” McGonagall wasn’t quite sure what to say. These people were supposedly muggles, but here they were talking about Diagon and having tea with the Malfoys. The two ideas didn’t mix._

_“I’m assuming that you’re here to bring Hermione’s letter?” Ian asked._

_“Well… yes, but… I was under the impression that Miss Granger was a muggleborn?” It came out as a question._

_“Yes, we were, too. But identity tests done today, have changed that.” Ian sighed._

_“Hermione is, in actual fact, a squib-born.” Lucius said._

_“Excuse me? What makes you think so?” McGonagall asked, primly._

_“Hermione did a family tree as part of her history class, this last year and found that my grandfather had dropped part of his father’s name. We thought nothing of it, but Alice and Frank Longbottom were of the opinion that there may have been a magical reason for that and suggested having an identity test done and getting a family tree made.” Ian replied. “Unfortunately, they’re on weekend shifts, this month and weekends are the only time we have free. So, Lucius and Narcissa offered to accompany us to Gringotts for the test and then show us how to find Heritage Options, where we could have a magical family genealogy done.”_

_“I see…” McGonagall blinked. “And the result?”_

_“My grandfather was the son of Hector Dagworth-Granger.” Ian said. “I understand Hector was one of the wizards that founded a potions society, that still exists, today. Spencer, my grandfather, was a squib and was sent to live with a distant relative of his mother's and dropped the ‘Dagworth’ from his name. According to Gringotts’ tests, it wasn’t done legally or magically and suggested that we re-introduce it. They also said that as the first magical descendant of Hector, Hermione is the current magical head of house.”_

**“Dagworth-Granger?” Dumbledore gasped. “Truly?”**

**“It certainly appears so.” McGonagall answered.**

_“Augusta is meeting us tomorrow to advise Jean and Ian on the legalities of claiming the Dagworth-Granger estate and has agreed to stand as Hermione’s magical guardian.” Lucius added._

_“Excuse me for moment.” Ian stood and left the table, heading inside._

_“I see.” McGonagall started. “How did you meet? I apologise if I offend, but the Malfoys? I hardly expected to find them in a muggle home.”_

**“Neither did I.” Dumbledore said.**

_“Ah.” Narcissa said. “That would Luna. It appears our little moon takes after her mother.”_

_“Her mother?” McGonagall asked._

_“Surely you remember Pandora Rathdowney?” Lucius replied._

_“Ravenclaw, graduated in… 1977?” McGonagall queried._

_“That’s mummy.” Luna chirped._

_“And Luna takes after her mother? Her Sight?” McGonagall’s eyes widened._

**“A Seer?” Dumbledore gasped.**

**“Not exactly, Pandora was a Dream Seer, they differ in that they only See when they Dream, and they only Dream when they sleep a natural unassisted sleep.” McGonagall answered. “My Aunt on my mother’s side was a Dream Seer.”**

_“Oh, yes. Well, to a degree, anyway.” Narcissa smiled at Luna. “We’d not had any contact, for a few years, not until just a few weeks ago. Luna floo-called and asked if Draco could come and visit for the day? Of course, I knew who she was, Pandora had tutored me in history for my OWLs and we continued to meet up, a few times a year, right up until her accident.” Narcissa lifted a delicate water and sipped before continuing. “So, Luna telling me that Draco, Neville and Hermione were going to be friends and asking if Draco could visit? While it came as a surprise, memories of Pandora’s gift prompted me to agree. Draco spent the day with them and asked if he could return the invitation.”_

_“The next day Luna was… The Aurors aren’t sure who the intended victim was, but whether by accident or design, Luna was potioned with an aging potion, while visiting Diagon Alley.” Lucius said. “The healers said that her age and immature core were her salvation. If she’d been older with a stable core, the potion was one that was designed to increase the recipient’s age by a limited amount, but that a vital ingredient as off, it’s not known whether the Moondew that was used, had been deliberately collected from a Devil’s Snare or not, but it altered the intended results of the potion. Or it would have, if Luna’s core had been stable enough for the potion to work to its full extent. If that had been the case, it would have forced an age increase of approximately fifty years.”_

_“Oh, my.” McGonagall lifted a hand to her heart._

**“The poor child.” Dumbledore sighed.**

_“Indeed.” Lucius sighed. “Thankfully, that didn’t happen. Due to her not-yet-stable core, the potion was only able to age her forward one year, but it did it in a matter of seconds. She was taken to St. Mungo's, who after testing the remnants of the potion, came to the conclusion that the potion would continue to age her, that each day she would age forward another year. The only chance to halt the progression was a DMLE restricted potion, a type of setting agent, followed by a purging potion to remove any further traces of the aging potion from her system. The negatives were that they would be unable to return Luna to her original age, but at least they’d caught it before it had done too much damage.”_

_“The DMLE and St. Mungo's ordered an alteration to Luna’s birth certificate and WFS file. We’re hoping that has carried over to Hogwarts, but we felt it best to wait until a little closer to the start of the school year, before consulting Dumbledore.” Narcissa patted Luna’s dainty hand._

_A sharp gasp came from behind them and McGonagall saw Neville’s eyes widen and his hand shoot out in the direction of the house._

**_“No!”_ ** _He screamed._

_“Oh, god.” Jean gasped, standing up quickly. “Ian!”_

_“Daddy!?” Hermione squealed._

_“Would someone help me?” Neville whispered. “I can’t hold him much longer.” His outreached hand trembled in the air._

**“What on earth?” Dumbledore stared at Neville then at Ian, his head moving back and forth in amazement.**

_Minerva turned and saw Ian Granger hanging in the air, just a few feet off the ground, but those were important feet. If he fell, even from there, he’d land back first on the steps, leading to a severe injury._

_Minerva quickly drew her wand and flicked it in his direction, chanting as she did so. “[Mobilicorpus](medical%20levitation%20charm).” _

_“Oh, thank you…” Neville whispered and collapsed back in his seat._

_McGonagall used her wand to ease Ian Granger away from the house to a flatter area, where she could lower him to the ground, his wife and daughter rushing to his side. Then she turned to Neville._

_The supposed squib._

_“Mr Longbottom? Are you alright?” She asked. Had he really stopped an adult in mid fall?_

_“…tired…” Came the almost silent answer._

_“Daddy?” Hermione asked again._

_“I’m alright, love. Neville caught me… and the Professor made sure I didn’t hit the ground.”_

_While the two Granger women fussed over Ian, Minerva rounded the table to stand beside Neville._

_“Mr Longbottom?” The boy looked up at her, his eyes tired. “Would you allow Mrs Malfoy to cast a core status charm on you?”_

_“Why?” The boy grunted._

_“Mr Longbottom. The… incident… in 1981? It’s commonly believed that as a result of your exposure to the cruciatus, that you were rendered a squib.” McGonagall stated._

_“And? What of it?” Lucius asked._

_“If that’s truly the case, how was he able to halt Mr Granger’s fall and hold him in mid-air?” McGonagall replied._

**“How, indeed?” Dumbledore frowned.**

_She was met with silence, no one had considered that. They all turned to look at Neville, varying degrees of surprise or confusion on their faces._

_“Okay.” Neville nodded. “Aunt Cissa can cast the charm.”_

_“[Magi Systemus Potentus](Magical%20system%20potential).” Narcissa waved her wand in an intricate motion before jabbing it in the direction of Neville’s chest._

_Slowly a ball of light began to appear in front of Neville. It grew and changed colour from a dark almost black/brown through the rainbow spectrum of reds, purples and blues before settling on a vibrant turquoise._

_“Oh, heavens.” McGonagall whispered._

**“Good lord!” Dumbledore gasped.**

_“What? What does that mean?” Jean looked up from Ian’s shoulder at the older witch’s stunned whisper._

_“Is it possible? Narcissa?” Lucius asked, just as shocked._

_“It…” Narcissa stopped herself and squinted. “Let’s check that again. This time lets ensure that there can be no mistake. Neville, dear? Would you come over here?” Narcissa pointed to a spot a few yards away from the table. “Everyone else stay where they are please. Professor? An exclusion bubble around Neville and I, please.” Narcissa had morphed from being a caring and concerned family friend, to a professional medi-healer, in a single heartbeat and it was clear that while she was phrasing her words as requests, they were anything but._

_“Yes, Aunt Cissa.” Neville stood and let the blonde woman guide him where she would. And after receiving a nod from the same blonde woman, McGonagall cast a silent and obviously complicated spell, that created a clear, semi-solid shield around the woman and the boy._

_Again, Narcissa cast her spell and again, the ball of light formed in front of Neville. And again, the light went from dark brown, through the rainbow to stop on the same bright turquoise blue. A nod to McGonagall and the shield vanished._

**“How ever was that missed?” Dumbledore asked.**

**“I have no idea.” McGonagall replied.**

_“Narcissa?” Jean asked._

_“Neville is most definitely not a squib, in fact, right now, he’s very close in core strength to most adults. If he goes through the normal core growth-spurts, he could easily end up a sorcerer or possibly even a grand sorcerer.” Narcissa said, still in that professional manner._

_“But…? How?” McGonagall asked._

_“Who knows? Maybe he was only magically exhausted, not drained. Maybe the idiots that tested him initially got it wrong? Maybe Lady Magic healed his core? I don’t know and bluntly? Does it matter? As far as I am concerned, all that matters is that Neville is unharmed, and now that we know he’s magical, he needed to be formally tested and added to the Hogwarts register, if he isn’t already there.” The last was directed solely as McGonagall._

**“St. Mungo's will be all in a tizz, over this.” Dumbledore warned.**

**“Yes, they will, and Alice and Frank will be out for blood.” McGonagall added.**

**Dumbledore winced and nodded. “Yes, I dare say they won’t be pleased it was not picked up sooner.”**

**“Not pleased? Oh, Alice will be ropable.” McGonagall sniffed elegantly. "I fully expect people to run for the hills, screaming."**

_“Yes, I’ll see to it personally, but if he has to be added, the Headmaster is required to ask for a Certificate of Capability signed by a St. Mungo's assessment healer.”_

**“I’d still like a copy, just to placate the Board.” Dumbledore said.**

**“I’ll request one when I visit Longbottom manner.” McGonagall nodded.**

_“I am aware.” Narcissa nodded. “And I’ll see that it’s done. In the meantime…” Narcissa gave Neville a gently nudge back to the table. “Expecto patronum.” She waited until the delicate swan emerged from her wand. “Message to Augusta Longbottom.” The swan nodded. “Augusta? It’s Narcissa Malfoy. I need you to respond to this message, but only when you have complete privacy.” The swan nodded and gave a beat of its wings and vanished. “Now, we wait for Augusta to reply.” She said re-joining them at table and sipping at her drink._

_A minute passed before an answering patronus entered the garden, the silvery vulture hovered in front of Narcissa._

_“Mrs Malfoy. I trust that my grandson is not injured?” It said before fading away._

_“Expecto patronum… reply to Augusta…” The swan nodded. “Neville is uninjured, but I need you to meet he and I at St. Mungo's. Someone has made a grievous mistake as far as Neville is concerned. I’ve just tested his core potential and he’s not a squib. Right now, I’m testing him at a level ten turquoise. He needs official testing.” The swan nodded and left._ _“I’ll take Neville, Lucius, if you would see that Luna makes it home safely?” She said to her husband._

_“Oh, no, Luna’s staying here for a few nights.” Hermione said._

_“Daddy’s gone looking for a six-footed heptapod or quintapod or some such thing.” Luna added brightly. “And I get to stay with Mione for a week.”_

_“I see… and I think you may have meant a quintaped, dear.” Narcissa sighed._

**“Oh, Xenophilius and his creatures.” Dumbledore chuckled.**

**“I recall him searching the dungeons for a whiffling shadowmander. Whatever that was.” McGonagall smiled fondly. “His essays were always a joy to read, even if they rarely stayed on subject.”**

**“I can imagine.”**

_“Something like that.” Luna smiled._

_The vulture reappeared. “I shall meet you at the welcome witch’s desk.”_

_“That’s my signal to leave. Neville, dear? Come here and we’ll get this sorted out for you.” Narcissa held out a hand to Neville, who smiled and let his small fingers clasp hers. Narcissa nodded and apparated away, taking Neville with her._

_“I shall return to Hogwarts and check the registry.” McGonagall stood. “Oh, I almost forgot. Miss Grang- Miss Dagworth-Granger. Your invitation to Hogwarts.” She handed over the letter. “Dare I assume that you will be accepting our invitation?”_

_“Oh, yes… well… I’d very much like to know that Luna and Neville are going to be offered a place, too. Otherwise, Uncle Lucius has mentioned the possibility of private tutors for Draco and I.” Hermione gushed._

**“I hope it won’t come to take, not now that we know that Mr Longbottom and Miss Lovegood may be joining us this year.” Dumbledore said.**

**“That is, of course, assuming that Frank and Alice allow him to attend, they are quite protective of their boys.”**

**“I’m sure we can come to some type of agreement.” Dumbledore twinkled, merrily.**

_“I doubt there will be any issues with Mr Longbottom receiving an invitation and Miss Lovegood would only be joining us a year ahead of expected. However, I can understand your concerns. I shall send you an update, as I have more information. Mr Malfoy? May I forward that to you?” McGonagall turned her attention from Hermione to Lucius._

_“Certainly, Professor.” The blonde wizard nodded._

_McGonagall turned towards the yard before pausing and re-turning to those at the table. “As I’m unaware of how much information has provided to the Dagworth-Grangers, would I be correct in assuming that either the Malfoys or the Longbottoms will be escorting them to Diagon for Hermione to collect her school supplies?”_

_“Yes, someone will be, at this point it looks more likely to be Narcissa or Lucius, but that will depend on when we go.” Ian Granger replied._

_“Very good. In that case may I suggest that you visit the Lion’s Den? It’s a group-shop run by a group of Hogwarts students, each of them have their own shop and some are specifically targeted to students and their school supplies. It has a large selection of items that will assist a muggleborn in acclimating to the wizarding world. And if you’re interested, Miss Dagworth-Granger, The Young Witch’s Friend has both the magical and muggle versions of many healthcare and beauty products. Among them is a marvellous range of haircare products and soaps. I do particularly like the Scottish Heather range put out by the Highland Soap Company, but then I **am** partial to the scent of heather.” McGonagall sighed fondly._

**“You and your heather…” Dumbledore shook his head in amusement.**

**“Hush, you.” McGonagall chided.**

_“Oh, yes, they’re right across the way from the entrance to Vertic Alley, we did spot them, but we didn’t have time to investigate.” Lucius said. “Alice has been in, as has Augusta, I think she said she was looking for some muggle plant-care books, but I must confess, I wasn’t really paying much attention.” Lucius said self-depreciatively._

_“But we will definitely look into it.” Jean cast a sidelong glance at Lucius, warning him to close his mouth._

_“Very well. Miss Dagworth-Granger, Miss Lovegood, Mr Malfoy, I look forward to receiving your acceptance letters and do hope to see you, come September.” McGonagall nodded to the children and curtsied to Jean, Lucius and Ian, before giving them a smile and apparating away._

The memory faded and McGonagall and Dumbledore emerged from the pensieve.

“I see…” Dumbledore hummed returning to desk, absently reaching out and taking a lemon drop from the bowl there. “Well, then… We’d best see if Miss Lovegood and Mr Longbottom are listed among our enrolments.” He smiled and headed for the orrery and its ledgers. “Now, let’s see…” He tapped the crest and the compartment opened and a drawer slid out. “1991 enrolments. Now, lets see. H, no. J, no. K, no. Ah. L, here we are. Li, Su. Lindstrom, Kellah. Longbottom, Neville. Lovegood, Luna. Lucas-Buckley, Michael. Lybeck, Sarah. Well, it appears that Mr Longbottom and Miss Lovegood will both be receiving their letters this year, but neither have been sent as yet.”

McGonagall sighed. “Excellent. I’d like to deliver them personally, Albus. I think Frank and Alice would appreciate it.”

“Yes, I think that would be quite fine.” Dumbledore twinkled.


	18. Chapter 18

_“1991 enrolments. Now, lets see. H, no. J, no. K, no. Ah. L, here we are. Li, Su. Lindstrom, Kellah. Longbottom, Neville. Lovegood, Luna. Lucas-Buckley, Michael. Lybeck, Sarah. Well, it appears that Mr Longbottom and Miss Lovegood will both be receiving their letters this year, but neither have been sent as yet.”_

_McGonagall sighed. “Excellent. I’d like to deliver them personally, Albus. I think Frank and Alice would appreciate it.”_

_“Yes, I think that would be quite fine.” Dumbledore twinkled._

“Ah. Minerva, you’re back.” Dumbledore greeted the witch. “How did it go?”

Minerva sighed. “It… went. Not as bad as I expected, but still…” She tapped her wand against the back of a chair and transfigured it into a replica of her high-sided office chair before making herself comfortable.

“How did Mrs Longbottom react?”

“Aggressively. That St. Mungo's acted quickly, sated most of her ire, but not all of it. Of the five healers that were involved in young Neville’s initial assessment, three have been dropped back to first-year trainees, one was removed completely, and his accreditations revoked, while the fifth was commended and asked to head the investigation, in conjunction with the DMLE. The first four were harshly fined, as well.”

“And young Mr Longbottom?”

“Most definitely a wizard. He tested as close to the border between turquoise and jade, at an approximate level of 10.9. The only one of the healers to retain their position, Miss Amber Christopher, had added the status charm as part of Neville’s yearly medical assessment, and it clearly showed that he was only suffering from magical exhaustion for the first few weeks after the incident. That he recovered quite well and should have been recognised as magical, well before his second birthday. Alice now realises that she attributed many of his bursts of accidental magic, to his younger brothers as they grew, first Everett and then Lawrence.”

“That is understandable, given the circumstances.” Dumbledore nodded.

“It is.”

“Will young Neville be joining us, come September?”

“Initially there was some hesitation, but Neville put an end to that, by bluntly informing his parents that he was going to attend and that if his parents truly wanted the best for him, they would support it.”

Dumbledore’s brows rose. “I don’t recall him being so assertive.”

“Albus… when have you ever taken the time to speak to the lad? Very few of us did, not once we were told that he would be a squib.” Minerva huffed.

Dumbledore tilted his head in thought. “That… that is true.”

“Anyway… Alice and Frank were forced to concede that Neville was correct and that they would support him, in anything he wished to do. So, yes, he will be joining us. As will Miss Lovegood, Xeno was as distracted as ever and his only comment was ‘If Luna wants to go, of course she may.’ Before he wandered off in search of something. Miss Lovegood accepted her letter and supply lists, and informed me that she, Hermione, Draco and Neville wold be going shopping in a few days and would we consider an exception to our pet rulings? It seems Miss Lovegood would prefer to have a raven over an owl.”

“I do think we could, we were discussing adding animals to the student list, and we already allow owls.” Dumbledore mused aloud.

“As Miss Lovegood is currently staying with the Dagworth-Grangers and they have stated that any further contact with them is to be via Lucius Malfoy, at least until Miss Dagworth-Granger’s magical guardianship is finalised, I shall write to Mr Malfoy and inform him of the alterations to the children’s letters.” McGonagall told the Headmaster before standing and heading for her own office.

“Hermione? Luna?” Draco asked, knocking quietly on Hermione’s bedroom door.

“Yes?” The brunette replied, opening the door. “Oh, you’re here. Luna’s in the bathroom. She won’t be long.”

“Obviously, we’re here. But father’s meeting with Dumbledore, so mother’s taking us today.” Draco warned his once rival.

“Is that… good?”

“Yes. Mother’s more likely to allow us to do our own selections and pay for our own purchases. She’s already given me my school allowance and I’ve added a fair few draughts. We should get expanded trunks, at least then, we’ll have a way of giving our ‘public’ persona’s the ‘privacy’ of a study space.”

“And we can look at putting a couple of wizard-spaces in them and under Fidelius.” Hermione added, nodding.

“Exactly. I asked father about them briefly, last night and while he approves, expanded trunks are very expensive.” Draco warned.

“How expensive?” Hermione grimaced.

“The base trunk is between ʛ10-15, depending on the wood. Expansions are ʛ10 per square foot, with a maximum of four-hundred square feet for anyone not an Auror. ʛ50 per additional compartment and a maximum of four compartments.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “ʛ4000 plus. That’s over £20,000. Gods, Draco, that’s a huge amount of money, just for a trunk.”

“It is, but the alternative is being in constant contact with the likes of Lavender Brown and the Patil twins, are you sure you want to do that?” Draco asked, arching an eyebrow.

Hermione hummed in thought. “You might be right.” She reached for her beaded bag and drew out a shrunken trunk.

“You keep a trunk in your bag? Please tell me that you lock it down before you do?” Draco gasped.

“What? Why?” Hermione frowned.

“Active expanded spaces cannot be enclosed within active expanded spaces, the rune-work will complete and eventually one will win over the other. You’ll either end up with a torn bag or a shattered trunk.”

“But we have wizard-spaces and inside expanded trunks, we brought them with us.” Hermione looked at the blonde boy sharply.

“They don’t use the same rune structure. You can put an active wizard-space inside an active expanded space or vice-versa. You can put either of them inside a wizard-tent, as a tent uses a completely different system, more of a distortion than an expansion or creation. Locking down a shrunken trunk, seals the runes from outside interference.” Draco explained.

“Oh. Well, I didn’t know that, but I’ll make sure to lock it, now.” The girl blinked.

“Good. So… um… how are you coping? With being eleven, again?” He asked.

“Really? It’s not as hard as I thought it was going to be, when I first woke up. Oh, sure, there’s time when I look at kids, those that are the same physical age as we are, and I want to smack them upside the head. Going to Hogwarts is going to be hard, no matter which way you look at it. On one hand, being surrounded by immature little brats, on the other, seeing people that we watched die? The room of Requirement’s going to get a lot of use.” Hermione sighed.

“Exactly!” Draco huffed. “But if you’ve got an expanded trunk, publicly, you can always retreat into it, to ‘study’ if you need to get away from the dunderheads.”

Hermione laughed. “So, I can.” She stood and slung her latest find, a wizarding satchel that she’d found on a trip to the local car boot sale the weekend before, over her shoulder.

An hour and a half later, the quartet had their wands and trunks and were debating whether to go to the bookshop, the robe shop or the Lion’s Den. Unsurprisingly, the Den won. It hadn’t existed in their previous world and all four were curious.

The shop itself wasn’t a large space, maybe ten by twenty feet, but the walls were lined with doors to wizard-spaces, each one having a sign beside it that named each space and gave a short list of some of the contents or of the type of contents.

The young man behind the counter looked up as their group entered and stood to greet them.

“Hi, welcome to the Lion’s Den. I’m Percy. Can I point you in the direction of anything in particular?”

Hermione blinked at the middle Weasley boy.

“We’ve just got our Hogwarts letters.” Luna chirped.

“We have.” Draco agreed. “And while we have our wands and a trunk each, we’ve nothing else, yet.”

“Wizarding raised or muggle raised?” Percy asked.

“Both. These three are wizard raised and I’m muggle raised.” Hermione answered. “They’ve been trying to educate me, but there’s so much they just don’t see, because they grew up with it.” She shrugged. “I’m the same with muggle stuff, so it’s kinda fair, but it does get annoying.”

“Got it.” Percy hummed. “Why don’t you start with… wait, what the budget? Low? Medium? Variable?”

“Variable, but within reason.” Draco replied.

“Alright. What sort of trunks did you get? Standard? Or expanded?”

“Expanded. Three compartments. One at seven-by-seven that will be a walk-in wardrobe. One at ten-by-ten for storage. One at ten-fifteen to be a library.” Hermione answered.

“Ooh, that’s gotta have cost a shiny ʛalleon or two…” Percy gasped.

Hermione pointed Draco. “Wizarding raised pureblood.” She pointed at Neville. “Wizarding raised pureblood.” She pointed at Luna. “Wizarding raised pureblood.” Then tapped her own chest. “Muggle raised, squib-born pureblood.” She gestured to the four of them. “We apparently have an educational allowance.”

“Ah… That makes more sense. Okay. Have you furnished each compartment?”

“In the five minutes since we bought them?” She asked sarcastically.

“Right. Stupid question. Okay so we can furnish them for you, or we can sell you the furnishings. Paddrick is in charge of the Outfitters, he can help. Come see me when you’re done, and I’ll help you work out the next step.” He pointed to a sign between two doors that had the name ‘The Stellar Outfitters’ and an arrow pointing to the right. “Pads is free right now, so go and chat with him, he’ll get you sorted.”

The four thanked Percy and headed off in that direction, they’d barely got inside the door and a young boy, just a few years older than they, appeared from seemingly nowhere.

“Hullo, I’m Paddrick. Percy send you?” He chirped brightly.

Hermione indicated to Draco to take over and leant into Luna.

“Who’s he?”

“He said he was Paddrick, Hermione.” Luna replied.

“Yes, but who is Paddrick, I don’t remember him.”

“Neville has two brothers, do we remember them?”

“Point.” Hermione nodded, sighing.

“So, wardrobe fitting first?” Paddrick said. “Want me to fit them? Unless you lot have underage exemptions, you can’t use magic at home, but I can, at least here in the shop I can.”

“The cost?” Draco asked.

“Depends. If you just get the fittings, flat packed? For a seven-by-seven? Uh… hold on. What do you actually want? Hanging space all the way? Hanging space on one side? On two sides? On three side? Drawers? Shelving?” As he asked each question, the boy pointed to a different type of storage unit.

“Uh, I think it might be a little different for each of us.” Draco grimaced.

“Alright, let’s start with you, then. Name?” Paddrick grabbed a clipboard and pencil.

“Draco Malfoy.”

“Right. Malfoy. So, what do you want?”

It took Paddrick an hour to furnish their trunks, wardrobes, storage and library, to their satisfaction and cost each of them ʛ2000, including installation. They all considered it money well spent.

Back in the main shop, Percy sent them to his brothers next, to fill some of their supplies list. Each of them emerged with a double-sided potions supply cabinet that shrunk without affecting the ingredients. One side was for ingredients and had room for a standard size two cauldron and a small collection of potions implements, while the other side was for finished potions and came with a full set of crystal phials.

Then to The Desk Set for all their stationery needs. Ink, quills, fountain pens, notebooks, folders, rulers, scroll-holders, as well as lots and lots of parchment.

Finally, it was time for books and Percy sent them to Remy saying, “He has packs of books for first through seventh years, plus study guides for each subject.”

A bare ten minutes talking with Remy and he nodded and handed each of them a box. “It’s shrunken, of course, but you only have to cut the string and wait ten seconds, then the shrinking charm will break. This is the advanced Ravenclaw pack. Covers all the subjects, for all years. Textbooks and study guides.” He handed Hermione a second box. “That’s the muggleborn pack. Covers things like wand care and associated laws, broom care and associated laws, etiquette, banking and financial management, law, customs, traditions, government and politics, how to use various tools like quills and blotters, business and career options, those sorts of things.”

Another ʛ600 for Luna, Neville and Draco, while Hermione also got the muggleborn pack for an additional ʛ20.

They left the Lion’s Den more than happy with their purchases. In fact, by the time they returned to Hermione’s house for afternoon tea, the four were tired but very happy children. While the adults sat and talked who-knew-what, the four children sat on the grass in the back yard, with fish and chips and jug of juice and discussed the differences between this world and their original.

“That shop? The Lion’s Den? That didn’t exist. I mean, who would have thought that Percy would work with the twins?” Neville asked.

“For that matter, who would have thought that Molly would have let the twins have a shop? She was very much against them having the Wheezes.” Hermione added.

“Talking of the Wheezes… The trunk that Arthur Weasley gave us? Should we be giving to the twins?” Draco asked.

“No, Arthur said to give it to Harry. I think we should keep it, we haven’t even got to Hogwarts, yet. Give us some time to find him, before we think about giving to them.” Hermione replied.

“I agreed.” Luna nodded.

“Me too.” Neville raised a hand.

“Alright, but how long do we wait? A year? Two? Five? Ten?” Draco asked. “Not disagreeing, just asking.”

“Urm…” Hermione grimaced.

“What about Hogwarts? If we haven’t found him by the time, we leave Hogwarts, we reassess.” Neville suggested.

“We could always advertise.” Hermione tilted her head. “I mean… he’d know what was meant, if we advertised for the fourth champion to meet us where the first task happened. Or where we ran the D.A.”

“Or where he duelled the amazing bouncing ferret.” Draco laughed.

“Say what…?” Neville blinked.

“One of our altercations in sixth year.” Draco waved it off.

“Or what wingardium leviosa has to do with trolls.” Hermione laughed.

“Excuse me? What!?” Draco spluttered.

“First year, Halloween and the troll.” Hermione answered the question that Draco hadn’t asked.

“Oh, good grief.” The blonde boy muttered. “I’ve thrown my lot in with a pack of Gryffindor madmen.”

“There, there, Draco, you’ll get used to it. Think of it as an exercise in true Slytherin-ing. You’re so Slytherin that everyone around you thinks you’re a lion.” Luna commented.

Draco looked at her like he didn’t know whether to be impressed at her reasoning or horrified at the suggestion.

“If we haven’t found Harry by the week of Halloween, we should advertise. Just a flyer in the common-rooms.”

“Does the Fourth Champion want to wingardium leviosa the troll a day earlier? Contact the Amazing Bouncing Ferret for details.” Neville said and the other three looked at him in surprise.

“That would work.” Draco huffed.

“He couldn’t possibly miss that.” Hermione agreed.

On the Express the four sat in a compartment wondering if this was going to work or if they were in over their heads.

An hour after leaving London and a familiar head of hair appeared at the door. But that was all that was familiar.

“Do you mind?” The redheaded girl asked, gesturing at the seats. “Everywhere else is full.”

The four exchanged looks and shrugged.

“If you like.” Neville offered.

“Thanks, I’m Veronica Weasley. Call me Ronnie, **_please_**.” She didn’t see the looks of absolute astonishment that the four gave each other.

“Neville Longbottom.” Neville was the first to recover.

“Luna Lovegood.” Luna said next.

“I thought you were Ginny’s friend? Aren’t you the same age as her?” Ronnie asked, confused.

“Yes, I was, but someone gave me an aging potion and St. Mungo's had to made it permanent before it made me even older.” Luna answered.

“Oh, okay.” Ronnie shrugged and looked at Draco and Hermione.

“Hermione Dagworth-Granger.” Hermione nodded to the girl.

“Hey.” She smiled back.

“Draco Malfoy.” Draco was too stunned to do anything but fall back on the manners his mother had worked so hard to instil in him.

“Malfoy? Wasn’t your father one of the imperius victims?” Ronnie asked.

“He was. Lestrange said she cast it on him while he was still at school.” Draco answered.

“Ugh, that’s awful. If she did that so long ago, how can your parents be certain that they wanted to marry each other?”

“They already had a betrothal contract. Lestrange waited until it was signed. She planned to poison mother’s head of house, Lord Black, and have him make father his heir. It didn’t work out the way she wanted. Lord Black survived and she got disowned.” Draco answered automatically.

“Your mother was a Black?” Ronnie gasped.

“She was. Your father’s Arthur Weasley, right?” Draco replied.

“Right.”

“I thought so.” Draco nodded. “His mother was Cedrella Black and Cedrella was the cousin of Lord Arcturus, the current Lord Black. Then again, your mother’s mother, she was Lucretia Black, Lord Black's daughter. The Black family is really complicated, they married into so many families and for all their sprouting off of ‘we’re a Dark family’, they sure married into a heck of a lot of Light ones. Including the Potters, the Burkes, the Crouchs, the Macmillans, the Gamps, the Prewetts, the Tonks’, the Weasleys and of course, the Malfoys.” Draco shook his head. “There’s even a rumour that Albus Dumbledore’s mother was approached about a contract between the Headmaster’s sister and a brother to the then Lord Black, but the only proof is a single comment that mother’s Aunt Walburga… who was totally mental… made about it. She said given the damage that Miss Dumbledore received at the hands of muggles, it was a good thing Kendra Dumbledore rejected the contract.”

“Whoa…” Ronnie gasped. "I didn't know that."

“Yeah…” Draco sighed.

Silence reigned for a few minutes, as the four tried to get their head around the fact that Ron Weasley, in this world, was a **_girl_**. And not nearly as obnoxious as her counterpart in their world, had been.

“So… um… What houses are you going to be in?” Ronnie asked.

The four snickered.

“What?” Ronnie asked.

“We can’t be certain until we’re sorted, but…”

“Oh, knock it off, Hermione. You know damn well we’re going to end up in either Gryffindor or Slytherin.” Neville growled, making Ronnie's eyes widen.

“Uh…?” Ronnie looked at Neville.

“Where else would we go? We make snap decisions then spend hours trying to work out how to make them happen.”

“That doesn’t sound all that Gryffindor.” Ronnie commented.

“It’s not, but once we’re made our choice, we refuse to back down. We do it, even if we end up doing something we probably shouldn’t.” Draco shrugged.

“Okay, that’s definitely Gryffindor. But why Slytherin?”

“We try to make people think that we planned it like that.” Hermione added.

“Ok-ay…” Ronnie tilted her head and looked up at the ceiling for a few moments. “I wonder how the twins ended up in Gryffindor, then?”

McGonagall greeted her new lions, in the tower’s common room.

“Welcome to Gryffindor. As you are the largest year we’ve had for some time, we’re going to be splitting you up, slightly. Boys, I’ve decided to put you in two rooms. Now, I understand that three of you are related, squib-born cousins, am I correct?”

“Yes, Professor.” The three Asian boys bowed slightly, even if only one spoke. “And if you don’t mind, Jason Colby went to muggle school with us, can he be in our room?”

“Certainly, Mr Kahne. That leaves Mr Thomas, Mr Finnigan, Mr Longbottom and Mr Malfoy together. Are you all in agreement with that?” She asked the later boys.

“Yes, ma'am.” Draco and Dean Thomas answered, while Neville and Seamus Finnigan nodded.

“Very good. Your fifth-year prefects are Percy Weasley and Rebecca Torrington. The sixth-year prefects are Bradley Trencher and Serena West. The seventh years are Hudson Wright and Beverly Wyndham. Head Boy is Wesley Newman from Hufflepuff, and Head girl is Hazel Brewster of Ravenclaw.” She gestured slightly and Percy Weasley came forward. “Mr Weasley will show you the way to the boys’ dorms.” She waited until they had left. “Ladies, as I’m sure you’re aware there are also eight of you. However, I do believe that young ladies need a little more privacy than the gentlemen, so you will be two to a room, each room has it's own bathroom and shares a sitting room with the other rooms. Miss Patil and Miss Brown, you are in room one. Miss Dunbar, you and Miss Clifford will be in room two. Miss Lindstrom will be in room three with Miss Weasley. Miss Dagworth-Granger and Miss Lovegood? You two are not in the first-year’s suite. Miss Dagworth-Granger, you are the magical head of your family and Miss Lovegood, while you are the only member of the Rathdowney family, it is a patriarchal family, making you the regent, for the next genration. The two of you will, I understand, be having additional lessons in what that means, Lady Augusta Longbottom will be here tomorrow for your first such lesson. As a result, the Headmaster is permitting you to have a suite to yourselves, but… be warned any misbehaviour and the privilege will be revoked.”

“Yes, Professor.” The two girls replied.

“Excellent. You’re in the suite with the laurel wreath on the door. Now, your rules, ladies. The only people who may enter your rooms are myself, the medi-witch, the female prefects and yourselves.”

“Yes, Professor.” The eight girls answered.

“You poor things, having extra lessons, right from the first day. Ugh…” Pavarti Patil groaned.

“It’s not worth having your own room.” Lavender Brown agreed.

Friday, three weeks into the school year, there was a tapping at the door of the suite, that Hermione shared with Luna. When Hermione looked up, she saw Ronnie Weasley standing there, looking visibly upset.

“Ronnie? Is something wrong?” Hermione got to her feet and hurried to the door.

“Hermione? Can you help me?” The redhead asked.

“What happened?”

“I… I heard one of the triplets tell Wood something, but I don’t know whether it’s true or he was just ribbing him.” The girl wrung her fingers together, before continuing. “But if it’s true… I’m… I’m… I’m in trouble.”

“What did he say?” Hermione’s voice hardened, just a little. Ronnie might not be _**their**_ Ron, but there was still no way Hermione was going to let some third-years pick on the kid.

“The triplets, the twins and the girls from the quidditch team? They were studying, writing up something. Wood came in and told them that they should have been at practice. Alicia said something and Wood yelled that quidditch was more important than homework, especially if they wanted to get a place on a professional team. Titan stood up and… and I swear the room went silent. He told Wood that if that was how he thought, then he stood no chance of getting on a team. Wood just stood there, and Titan said that all the teams have a minimum schooling level. The lowest of them was Chuddley and they insisted on at least three NEWTs passes. No other team accepts less than E’s and depending on the team as to how many and how many O’s. And Dumbledore is being pressured to make the school adhere to the same rules. Is he right?” It came tumbling out in rushed speech.

Hermione blinked. “I… I don’t know.” She watched Ronnie’s shoulder slump. “But I’ll help you find out.” The smile she in reply was absolutely brilliant with joy.

“Oh, please?” Ronnie begged. “How? What do we do first?”

“First we need to go to the library.” Hermione answered and Ronnie frowned. “We should find a book on the British and Irish League. That might tell us, if it doesn’t, then we need to find books about each team and check their application requirements. Once we know about the teams, we can ask Professor McGonagall or send a letter to Professor Dumbledore about the school requirements.”

“Oh, okay. That makes sense.”

Twenty minutes later and Ronnie lay the last book down, a pout on her face.

“There’s nothing newer than ten years ago, are they out? How do we tell?” She muttered.

“I’ll ask Madam Pince if the library even has newer editions, it might not. Wait here.” Hermione directed.

When she returned, she dropped down into a seat opposite Ronnie.

“Well, these are the newest the library has. But she suggested that Remy Grimm might have a copy in his trunk-shop of books. We can only ask.” She shrugged.

“Remy? He’s one of the triplets, yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s Friday, he doesn’t have the shop hours today, so he’ll be in the common room or his dorm.”

“He wasn’t there when Titan shut Wood down.” Ronnie said.

“Ah, then he’s likely in their dorm. We can ask one of his brothers, or yours, to ask him if he’ll speak to us.” Hermione replied.

“Okay, let’s do that.” Ronnie stood up and picked up the book from the table. “Do we put these back or do we put them somewhere for Madam Pince?”

“We put them on this trolley over here.” Hermione showed her the way, before leading the girl back to Gryffindor tower and their common room. “Now, where to find… ah, there we are.” Hermione took hold of Ronnie's arm and dragged her across the room, to stop in front of one of the triplets and their dormmate, Lee. “Hi. We have an issue and we’re hoping we can speak to Remy. He’s the one with the books, right?” She asked.

“He is. He’s up in the dorm. You want me to ask him to come down?” The black boy replied.

“Yes, please. Mr…?” Hermione knew he was Lee Jordan, but she wasn’t supposed to know that.

“Eh, call me Lee. Back in a sec…” The boy stood and bounced on his toes, before taking off up the stairs at almost a sprint. Two minutes later and he was back, and with him was the golden eyed, Remy.

“Hey, I’m Remy.” He said.

“I’m Hermione and this is Ronnie. We have a question about your books. Do you have a listing? Ronnie is looking for a copy of ‘Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland’. Preferably a copy a more recent copy than the library, their newest is ten years old.” Hermione said.

Remy laughed. “I do. Let me guess, you heard Titan tell Wood off? Hang on.” He pulled a small trunk from a pocket and enlarged it, then disappeared into its depths. When he came back, he held a copy of the bright book. “Do you want to borrow or buy it?”

“Can we borrow it, just for a few minutes?” Hermione asked.

“Sure, but it doesn’t leave my sight.”

Ten minutes later, Ronnie groaned. “Oh, I am so screwed…”

“Ronnie?” Percy heard her as he entered the roon, he came over and sat down beside his sister. “What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter whether I’m a good Keeper or not, if I don’t have the grades, none of the professional teams will even let me try-out.” She whined. “The average requirements to apply to a team are five NEWTs, all with E’s or better, only Chuddley accepts A's. Has anyone told the twins? Have they got time to fix it? Have **_I_** got time to fix it?”

“Steady on, Ronnie. When Auror Moody sponsored the twins, he gave them the same rules as he did his own grandsons, they have to maintain an EE for all classes or there’s no pranks and their business trunks get taken off them.” Percy answered. “And of course, you still have time to fix your grades. You’re only in first year. If you like, I’ll talk to the twins, and ask for a copy of their study schedule from first year.” He frowned. “And I’ll see if someone has a copy of the study guides, they’ll really help, too. Leave it with me for the weekend, Ronnie, and I’ll work something out for you, that you can live with. Okay?”

“Thanks, Percy.”  
  


“Excuse me, Miss Brown? Would you be so kind as to ask Miss Granger and Miss Lovegood, if we might have a word with them?” Draco stood at the base of the stairs to the girls’ dorms, Neville a few feet behind him.

“Uh, sure, I guess…” Lavender screwed up her nose prettily but went to relay the message and moments later returned with Hermione and Luna behind her.

“Thank you, Miss Brown.” Draco nodded to the ditzy blonde.

She giggled and nodded back, but also hurried away, when her roommate called for her.

“Draco, Neville.” Hermione smiled at them. “What is it?”

“Can we talk somewhere a little more private, please?” Draco looked almost flustered.

“Ok-ay…” Hermione drawled the word and gestured to the boy to lead the way.

He led them from the tower and through the halls of the castle, down to the dungeons and into an unused corridor, banishing the dust as they went. Finally, they entered a small classroom, if the desks were anything to judge by. Once the four were inside, the blonde boy lifted his wand and began to cast a complex series of privacy charms.

“Alright, Draco. We’re here, you’ve put up your alert wards and laid out your privacy charms. What’s the issue?”

“The triplets? The youngest one, Titan?” Draco asked.

“What about him?”

“I just figured it out.” The boy whined, flushing bright red.

“Really?” Hermione laughed. “The rest of us have known, which way your interest went, since the great sleep out.” Meaning their original third year and the night the students spent in the Great Hall, while the staff and Aurors searched the school for Sirius Black, mass murderer, Draco had spent a fair amount of the night surreptitiously watching Harry.

 ** _“What!?”_** Draco squawked. “Why didn’t someone tell **_me?”_**

“Initially? It was fun to watch you flounder. Now? Come on, after all this time? You’re just figuring it out **_now?”_** Neville answered.

“Well, shit.” Draco huffed. “I wasn’t expecting to fall for a bloody Gryffindor. Then there's the Malfoy Curse to take into consideration.”

“Curse? So, it’s not just a crush?” Hermione asked with alarm.

“No, unfortunately not. Malfoy’s have this hideous tendency to not do crushes, play the field or do casual dating. No, we tend to fall head over bloody heels, instantly, sometime between our twentieth and twenty-fifth birthdays. Something to do with a curse cast on a Malfoy heir back in the 1500’s, but the exact details were lost two centuries later, when all the adult Malfoy men were killed during the Great Fire of London. The then heir was only a child, his nanny knew of the curse and what it did, but not what the curse actually was. And no matter how hard we’ve looked, we’ve never found a way around it. We just call it The Curse and don't usually do anything about partners until we reach twenty. My parents are the exception, but that was more Lord Black, than grandfather.” Draco pouted, his shoulder slumped and a look of annoyance on his face.

“Oh, dear.” Hermione sighed. "So, that would be why you never really did anything about Harry."

"He fascinated me, but that was more about his power and him not using it, than wanting to kiss him." Draco answered. "Titan, on the other hand? Him, I want to kiss."

“So, I take it, we’re going to help a snake woo a lion?” Neville was trying hard not to laugh.

 ** _“Please?”_** Draco begged.

The day before Halloween, the Horde were in their dorm, waiting on Lee to return from doing a supply run to Ravenclaw. The first and second years were realising exactly how far a ream of parchment would go and finding that it wasn’t nearly as far as they’d hoped.

The black boy bounced into the dorm, giggling madly and shaking his head.

“What’s with you?” Fred, or the twin wearing the ‘F’ jumper asked.

“Someone’s put a question on the notice board.” Lee tried to stop his laughing. “But I think they're trying to pull a prank.”

“A Prank? Why?” George, or the twin wearing the ‘G’ jumper asked.

“It has to be a prank, they didn’t put their name to it.”

“What did they ask?” Remy wanted to know

“How does wingardium leviosa defeat a mountain troll a day early?” Lee asked. “That’s what someone that calls themselves ‘The Amazing Bouncing Ferret’ wants to know.”

 ** _“What!?”_** Titan screeched, before leaping to his feet and diving into his trunk.

Paddrick and Remy’s eyes widened in shock.

“Ah, Ty?” Fred called.

“Just a sec.” Titan’s voice emerged from his trunk, followed seconds later by the boy himself. He had a piece of parchment in his hands and quickly tapped it with his wand. “I solemnly swear, I am up to no good.” Ink spread across the parchment, forming words into shapes. A few seconds passed, while Titan searched the map. “Found him. Oh shit… What’s the time?”

“7.30-ish. Why?” Ken asked.

“Oh, crap. I’m late, I’m late. Shit, bugger, bollocks.” Titan yanked his shoes back on and grabbed a jacket. “Wish me luck!” He yelled over his shoulder as he bolted from the room.

“What the _**hell**_?” The twins exchanged confused looks.

“Remy? Pads?”

“That wasn’t a prank question, it was a secret message asking Ty to meet as a certain time and place.” Paddrick said.

“And like he said, he’s late. Leave him be and we’ll find out the details, when he gets back.” Remy added.

Titan, meanwhile, was sprinting, he had to get from Gryffindor tower on the fifth floor, around the keep to the Turis Magnus and down to the second floor and he was already late.

Jumping the last few steps, he gasped as he hit the second-floor landing, he reached out and grabbed a hold of the doorframe of the entrance to the second floor, letting his grasp and momentum swing him around and through the door. And he sprinted, again.

As he rounded the corner, he saw the blonde head of the person he was looking for, but he was at the far end of the corridor and rounding the corner into the south wing. With the east and west corridors being nearly a hundred yards long, and there being stairs outside the hospital wing on the south corridor, Titan knew he had to catch up with this prey, before they reached those stairs, or this… meeting? confrontation? This whatever, was going to be in public. As he rounded the corner into the south wing, he saw his prey just a few yards away.

“Malfoy!” He gasped, almost out of breath, but letting himself slow from a run to jog. He saw Malfoy’s eyes widen and brighten.

“Titan.” Draco nodded, as calm as he could, a bright smile on his face.

Titan slowed but didn’t stop, he barrelled straight into the smaller boy, at a fast walk, his arms closing around the boy and hugging him tightly.

“Malfoy. How the blood hell did you get here, Ferret?” Titan gasped trying to get a decent lungful of air.

“Titan?” Draco grabbed at the older boy.

“Thank you.” Ty was still gasping.

“What?”

“Thank you… for not killing… him… on the… tower that night... for not… telling Bella… it was us… in the manor… thank you… Thank you… for the ʛalleons…”

“Oh, shit… **_Harry?!”_** Hermione’s screech from behind Titan made the older boy’s eyes pop and his head lift from where it was buried in Draco’s neck. He turned slightly so he could see who else was there, to his surprise, Hermione, Neville and Luna stood there, just feet from Draco. Shock written on all four faces.

“Uh… Hi.” Titan grimaced.

“Harry James Potter!” Hermione huffed. “Don’t you ‘hi’ me, mister.”

Titan’s eyes widened.

**_“Mione?”_ **

“Yes.”

“What was the last thing you said to me?” Titan felt a little freaked out.

“I love you, Harry. Check the cards.” Hermione dutifully answered.

“Oh, boy.” Titan breathed out.

“Are you going to let go of Draco? Or are you going to keep him as a teddy bear?” Luna asked, curiously.

Titan glanced back at the boy in his arms. “Oops.” He said, before stopping. “Hold on a second. Malfoy…?” He tilted his head in thought. “What is going on? You three have been pushing me to mentor Draco. Why? What are you planning?”

“Oh, shite.” Draco moaned.

Luna just smiled. “The Malfoys are cursed to fall in love in their early twenties.” She said.

“And you’re it.” Neville added.

“You said what?” Titan asked, his voice calm and steady.

“Draco’s fallen for you.” Hermione answered, ignoring the bright red face of the boy who was still in Titan’s arms.

“Oh…” Titan said.


	19. Chapter 19

_Luna just smiled. “The Malfoys are cursed to fall in love in their early twenties.” She said._

_“And you’re it.” Neville added._

_“You said what?” Titan asked, his voice calm and steady, belying his surprise._

_“Draco’s fallen for you.” Hermione answered brightly, ignoring the bright red face of the boy who was still in Titan’s arms._

_“Oh…” Titan said._

“Yeah. Oh.” Hermione said, abroad grin on her face.

“Hello, Harry.” Luna chirped.

“Titan.” Titan corrected.

“But…” Hermione frowned.

“Wait.” Neville held up a hand. “You’ve two brothers. Who are they?”

“Remy and Pads.” Titan answered.

“Alright, rephrasing the question. Who **_were_** they?” Neville tried again.

“Remy… and… Pads…” Titan said slowly.

Luna, Neville and Draco’s expressions said that they didn’t understand. But Hermione got it.

“Oh, my god. What did you do? Harry, that’s-”

“Titan.” Titan’s voice went hard. “My name is Titan. Harry Potter is dead. Just like Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are dead. I am Titan Grimm and my brothers are Paddrick and Remington Grimm.”

“But…”

“We might have been someone else… once upon a time, but our names are Titan, Paddrick and Remington Grimm, now. And that’s how it’s going to stay.” There was little flexibility in his voice or face.

“Um… Hello...?” Draco was still quite red. “Are you going to put me down?” He asked quietly.

“Do I have to?” Titan asked just as quietly.

“I don’t mind the holding bit, but I prefer to have my feet on the ground, if I’m not on a broom.” Draco replied.

“That I can do.” He lowered Draco until the, now younger, boy’s feet touched the ground, but his arms stayed around the first year.

“Harr- Titan. Are you going to tell us what you did?” Hermione stood there, hands on hips, tapping her foot on the floor.

“No.”

“Ha-Titan…” Hermione grit her teeth.

“No. I have to talk to my brothers first. Certain information is under a Fidelius… of sorts. It’s not just my Secret.” Titan warned.

“Who’s your Keeper?” Neville asked.

“We all are. And that’s the issue. We all have to agree to pass the Secret along and be together when we do.” Titan answered. “Tomorrow is Saturday and we’re due to meet Grampy at eleven, wanna come, too? Oh, and we haven’t told our dormmates, yet.”

“Oh, that’s going to be fun… Not.” Draco grimaced. Weasley were renowned for their tempers.

“Nah, they know we’ve got secrets, that there’s things we can’t tell them, they get that.” Titan shrugged. “They might not like it, but they get it. Everyone has things they don’t want people to know.” He looked down at Draco. “But if you and me are going to do this? Grampy needs to know.”

“That’s it? If we’re going to do this? That’s it?!” Draco gasped. “No horror, no shock, no ‘I’m straight’, no ‘but you’re a Malfoy’, none of that?”

“Uh… no…” Titan leant his head away from the blonde boy. “I’ve known I was bi, since… oh… definitely the ball… I spent more of my night watching you and the other champions and not my date. Why do you think she was so angry with me?”

“Are… your brothers going to object?” The blonde boy asked.

“They better not. Remy might be straight, but Pads is bi, like me.”

“Oh, okay.” Draco fell silent.

“So, meeting your grandfather? How? We can’t leave the school and he can’t enter it.” Hermione clarified.

“Oh, we meet near the station, but as long as no one crosses the boundaries, it’s all good. We can set up a table that crosses, but we can’t cross it, ourselves. That way Grampy can slide things across the table to us and we can all sit down and eat together. Tomorrow, it will be Grampy and Lee’s father joining us.” He paused. “Us, meaning… Remy, Pads, the twins, Lee, Ken, Alicia, Katie, Angelina and me. And now you four.”

The four firsties and the Horde sat and listened to Paddrick's tale, of danger and destruction. Then Hermione added how she, Luna, Neville and Draco had lost everything and everyone that had been important to them, to the Dragonpox epidemic that decimated their time. How they’d given up on their society, as it was, and taken the chance that Lady Magic would let them start over, implying that Lady Magic had cast them back in time to be with their friends. Only Moody, the four and the triplets, knowing that it wasn’t quite right, or rather it was right, but there was one huge point missing. The veil and any reference to it or having come from a separate world, were omitted, leaving the Horde with the ‘official’ time travel story.

“Well, shite.” Fred whispered.

“That explains a lot.” George added.

“So, you’ve already finished Hogwarts, once?” Ken asked, looking from Pads to Titan and back.

“I did, but Ty never got the chance, the war exploded at the end of his sixth year.” Pads answered.

“So… you and Malfoy?” Katie asked.

“We weren’t together, then. Weren’t even friends.” Ty replied.

“Friends, oh, hell no. We were **_enemies_**. He was the Gryffindor captain and their star seeker, and I was the opposing seeker. I didn’t realise I was interested in guys until just a few days ago. Hell, I never expected to fall for a bloody Gryffindor. And Titan never gave the slightest hint that he might have been interested in guys, either. So, forgive me for being blind about it.” Draco snarked from his seat beside Titan.

“So… what’s next?” Lee asked. “If You-Know-Who is dealt with, never to return, what are you going to do now?”

“We’ve got our shops.” Remy said. “And we’ve got permission from the Headmaster and the Board of Governors to have a Hogwarts shop, once we graduate. We’ll be able to come into the school Wednesday evenings and Saturday afternoons, those that aren’t Hogsmeade weekends, that is. We want a Den in Hogsmeade, open during the week, as much for adults as students.”

“And more importantly…” Paddrick added. “We have each other.”

“Although, we hadn’t expected to have Draco, Neville, Luna and Hermione show up, _**our**_ Draco, Neville, Luna and Hermione, that is. We didn’t expect to have them back.” Titan smiled at them. “I kind of was keeping my distance from Neville and Mione, ‘cause it hurt to be around, seeing that they didn’t remember the crap we went through. Knowing that they do remember? It’s a relief. Luna? I expected to see her next year and fully expected her to just Know. But Draco? A Draco that remembered the things we saw and did? I gotta say…? That Draco is far more appealing as a life partner, than one that doesn’t.”

“Wow…” Fred whispered.

“Boys? An' girls, too. I need to speak with the trips, Neville, Draco, Luna and Hermione. As an Auror. I need you other seven to leave, for a bit. And I need not remind you that speaking about this could hurt my grandsons, so mouths shut. Got it?” Moody had let the children speak, but he needed to protect his grandsons, and for that he needed to speak to the others that came through the veil.

“Yes, Grampy.” The Horde members all said.

“Remy was going to be opening for a few hours, this afternoon.” Lee warned.

“I can ask Percy to run the shop for the afternoon.” George said.

“He happily do that, for a ʛalleon.” Fred nodded.

“He knows where I keep the price lists and the register float.” Remy nodded. “One of you guys will have to open the main trunk for him. But the wiz-space only needs to be activated to open the shop.”

“If he won’t, he was working pretty closely with Ronnie, so it’s possible. If he won’t, we can ask Penny.” George said.

“That would work.” Fred nodded. “She’d love the gold or… what about a shop credit? Their OWLs are approaching, a shop credit could go down well.”

“Ask Percy first, if he says no, talk to Penny. Then ask whichever one, whether they’d prefer gold or shop credits.” Remy nodded.

“Will do.” George agreed and with that he and the other Horde members left the triplets and the firsties with Moody and headed back to the castle.

Moody gave them a minute or so and nodded to Paddrick, who took a deep breath and cast a set of Auror grade privacy charms.

“Thanks, Pads.” The scarred old Auror grunted.

“No worries, Grumpy.” Paddrick grinned at him.

“Right, you lot.” He pointed at the firsties. “Who have you told?”

“You and the Horde.” Hermione answered.

Moody paused and blinked. “That’s it?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I could see muggle parents accepting that I’m almost twenty-one, from another world and have taken over their eleven-year-old daughter’s body.” Hermione answered sarcastically.

“Hmm… You could be right.” Moody allowed.

“I know my parents, Moody, neither of them were terribly please about me being a witch, it interfered with their view of my future. Telling them I know exactly how bad that future was going to get and still decided to join the wizarding world? No, they won’t be pleased, not in the slightest.” Hermione sighed. “I tell them, and they’ll have me out of Hogwarts before I can blink, even knowing that it would mean having my core bound… Especially, knowing that. They’d see that as a bonus, not a drawback. They love me, not magic.”

“Hgh…” Moody grunted. “And you three?”

“While my daddy would accept it, he also wouldn’t remember it, or he’d forget that it should be a secret.” Luna said. "It' easier not to say anything at all."

“My parents would probably withdraw me from Hogwarts, too.” Draco added. “Neither of them would like knowing what happened in our original world, nor would they be pleased that their Draco has been... overwritten... by me.”

“Yeah, pretty much the same, here.” Neville sighed. “Protective parents…”

“Protective parents.” Draco nodded.

“Alright… I’ll grant that telling your parents is not a wise idea, how do you plan to keep it hidden? Dumbledore and Snape are both Legilimens, so unless you’re occlumency masters…? The chances are they’ll find out, sooner or later.” Moody warned.

“Grampy? What about a Knowledge Secret, like ours?” Remy asked. “Would that help?”

Moody blinked, there were times he forgot that there even was a Secret, the boys had just become who their documentation said they were. Even now, being in the middle of discussing the Secret, the still forgot.

“It would… If you could get the wording right. Do you plan to dismiss the other Secret and start fresh, or create a second Secret?” He asked.

“Mione, Remy?” Titan asked. “Which do you think is safer?”

Remy and Hermione conferred for a few moments, before Hermione pulled out a pencil and notepad, and Remy turned to Titan. “We prefer to dismiss and start over. If we do, we can all be Secret Keepers, and all of us would have to agree to telling someone new. Plus, if Mione and I get the wording right, we can separate the veil issue from the time travelling issue. That way, we can tell someone… like Dumbledore… about the time issue and because it involves multiple Secret Keepers, he’s more likely to accept that it’s the complete secret, not just one half of what we’re hiding.”

Moody nodded and hummed as he thought about it. “Yes…” He eventually agreed. “That would work. But it would be better to have three parts, in that case. One, for the new Id’s for the triplets. Two, for the time travel issue. And three, for the veil. It’d be best to cast them in that order.” He tilted his head and ran a couple of scenarios through his mind. “Something along the lines of ‘Titan, Paddrick and Remy were who they were, but have been issued new Id’s by the DMLE’ as part one. And ‘Titan, Paddrick, Remy, Draco, Neville, Luna and Hermione have travelling back in time’, up to you whether you add that you came from different points in time or not. And ‘Parts one and two, are because the seven went into the veil’ again whether you state that it happened at different time and willing or not, that’s something you lot have to work out.”

“But you’ll cast it, once we work it out?” Titan asked.

“I will, but… I can’t do that with the wards between us.” Moody warned.

“So, you have to be with us to do it?” Hermione asked, her head popping up from the grouping of Draco, Neville, Remy and Pads.

“Grampy? Could you ask Dumbledore for permission to visit us tomorrow. Tell him that we’re ready to buy a place in Hogsmeade and need to view them via pensieve.” Remy started.

“No.” Pads cut in. “No, that won’t work. He’ll want us to do that in his office. No, we’re better off, if Grampy asks to visit as we want to invite Draco, Neville, Luna and Hermione to become Den shareholders. That requires an oath from them, and we’ve already had Grampy registered as our oath-binder, due to our age.”

“So, they just need to come up with business idea.” Moody nodded. “That’s better. Ideas?”

“A student magazine. A bit like the Quibbler but covering the school. Not necessarily gossip and the like, but a page for each year, reminding them what essays and assignments are due. A page to cover Hogsmeade and anything that happens there, a page for the muggle world and a page for the wizarding world in general.” Luna replied.

“Perfect. You cover the school stuff. Hermione helps and covers the muggle stuff. And I cover Hogsmeade and the wizarding world.” Draco grinned.

“And Neville?” Moody asked.

“A nursery, for fresh potions ingredients. Potted plants for the dorms, terrariums, equipment for herbology and books, too. That would have me working reasonably closely with the twins, Ken and Remy.” Neville answered.

“Excellent.” Moody half-grunted-half-laughed.

“Plus, you can also tell him that one of us raised the subject of betrothals.” Hermione said.

“No, not with Dumbledore, he doesn’t approve of them.” Moody said. “His mother’s influence, I think.”

“Heh…” Hermione snorted. “Not his business.”

“It’s not, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to interfere. We’re best off just telling him enough to get the response we want.” Moody said. "Betrothals can happen during the holidays, best to let Dumbledore find out after the fact."

Christmas was approaching fast and the Express was due to leave in a few days. This year, the Weasley’s were going to Romania for Christmas and the boys and Ronnie were expected to stay at school, but the triplets put paid to that. They wrote to Molly and Arthur and begged for the twins to stay with them, unsurprisingly permission was given. What did surprise them was that Ronnie and Percy elected to stay at the school by themselves.

Apparently, Titan’s lecture to Oliver Wood had influenced Ronnie considerably. While she was not the best of students, she was working hard to get to a solid EE grade and planned on keeping it there. Percy was helping her with the more academic subjects and after watching his sister struggle with her wand, had written to their father, stating that Ronnie was having difficulty casting spells as she was using Charlie's old wand and it didn’t like her all that much and would Arthur object terribly much if Percy took her to meet with Auror Moody who had a trunk of second-hand wands, in the hope that one would choose her? It would cost ʛ1 and the old wand or ʛ2 and the family would keep her old wand.

Arthur replied, sending the ʛalleons and permission, for Percy to take Ronnie to Ollivander’s in Hogsmeade to get a brand new wand and asking them to send the old wand home, it had belonged to their grandfather’s brother and while he didn’t object to one of the children using it, he wanted to keep it in the family.

So, Veronica Weasley got the willow and unicorn wand that, in that other world, Ronald Weasley had acquired after his second year. Much to the amusement of Hermione and Titan, the exact same wand had chosen the two counterparts.

The triples and the quartet had met with Moody and he’d cast their Secrets, as they’d walked from the school’s gates, across the grounds, to the castle. The group had already written out the thee Secrets on muggle paper, which after Moody had read them, were banished to their trunks, in case they were needed in the future. They’d reintroduced the Horde to the time travel Secret, before the Auror had left, but after having met one of each of the quartet’s parents, or in Hermione’s case her guardian Augusta, in the Headmaster’s office, to provide consent and to witness the students’ oaths.

Dumbledore had been a little alarmed at the students having to give oaths, but was mollified when told that if they wished to cancel the oaths at any time, all they had to do was to hand over control of their shares back to the Den. If they’d paid out the cost of their wiz-spaces and trunks, they would be able to keep them, otherwise monies outlaid would be returned to them and the Den would keep the items. It was only an oath of professional loyatly, after all, and most businesses used a similiar oath to ensure craft Secrets weren't stolen, by shifty employees.

But all that was resolved, now and the Horde were running hard and fast to try and keep up with the requests for Den products, not just for Christmas but for the rapidly looming exam season.

Even the staff were seen to be visiting the Den and spending their gold. McGonagall bought a selection of heather-based products for herself and a range of muggle sweets for most of the staff, excluding Snape, he got a set of very nice crystal phials. Dumbledore, of course bought sweets for everyone. Flitwick bought a set of duelling robes for himself that were, miraculously, the right size for the tiny charms Professor. Professors Sinistra and Babbling bought muggle books on astronomy and runes, while Professor vector found herself a handful of books on advanced mathematics that she thought sounded interesting.

Fifth and seventh year students frequently sent notes via owl, to inquire after this or that book. Requests for paper, graph-paper, parchment or ink, came almost hourly. Then there were the commission requests, books, games, clothes, equipment. Once student even sent a request for a specific shade of a specific type of yarn, so that she could finish the scarf and hat combo, she’d been working on.

Lucius looked at his son.

“Would you care to repeat that, please, Draco?”

“The Malfoy Gift. It struck a little earlier than expected, father.” Draco obediently said. “I want to court Titan Grimm. Auror Moody’s grandson.”

“I thought that was what I heard. Gift? I’ve never heard it called a Gift before.” Lucius mused.

“Hermione and Alicia started it. I was bemoaning the Curse and they quickly corrected me. Thanks to the Gift, Malfoys can be quite confident that we will find their life’s partner, by the time they are in their mid-twenties.” Draco explained. “You and mother were betrothed before leaving Hogwarts and were declaring your love for each other not much later. So, I’m a few years younger again? So what? Malfoys know what we want and only the best will satisfy us. Titan, is for me, the best of all of those at Hogwarts.”

“Back up a little, son. What makes you so sure it’s a Gift?” Lucius frowned.

“Father...” Draco sighed. “All Malfoys are subject to it, not selected members of the family. We find love, with our life’s partner, before we reach twenty-five. It’s widely known, enough that most other families don’t approach us about betrothals until after that time, the Blacks not included, they’re a bit stubborn in that way. We never have to worry about… ‘do they like us?’ We never have to worry about… petty breakups. We never have to worry about… the drama of dating. We never have to worry about… infidelity. We never have to worry about… whether our partner cares about us. We never have to wonder if… they will support us in our ventures. We never have to worry about… abuse. We never have to worry about… disrespect. We don’t have to worry about… our partners being respectable. We don’t have to worry about pretty much **_anything_** as far as our partner is concerned. They are the person that is most suited to us, above all others.”

Lucius stood and just gawked at his son, he knew all of this. But he’d never hear it put quite that way before. When looked at from that direction, the enchantment on the Malfoys was most definitely a Gift and not a Curse.

“Oh.” Was all Lucius could say.

“Exactly.” Draco smirked.

Lucius shook himself, anything to regain his composure. “And you feel Titan is this person?”

“I don’t feel, father, I know. Look you and mother were already betrothed? And there was just that split second where you suddenly realised that this person was everything. Right? You met her eyes and knew that she was it and just as importantly, she knew it, too.” Draco huffed. Ye, Gods, but his father was a mule to deal with at times.

“I would like to know a little more about the lad, before offering a contract.” Lucius warned.

“Father, you know what Ty’s been like since he reached Hogwarts.”

“And before Hogwarts? What of his parents? How do we know they would welcome a contract?”

“The triplets’ parents died when they were a year old, when the muggles destroyed part of Liverpool. They’ve lived with Auror Moody ever since.”

“Ah. And their grades?” Lucius was clutching at straws to find things to ask.

“Auror Moody insisted, if they want to keep their businesses and prank the school, they have to keep their grades at EE or above. They all keep an O in potions, Uncle Sev makes sure of that. In arithmancy they’re all E’s, same for astronomy, CoMC is Pads favourite and he’s first in their year, in charms Pads has an O, in defence all of them do, herbology they’re all E’s, in history it’s Remy that has the O, potions all of them, runes it’s Remy again, in transfig it’s all of them.”

“I see…” And finally, Lucius did see. “Very well, I shall contact Auror Moody and discuss the matter with him. I would suggest allowing us to discuss it privately, before involving yourself and Titan.”

“As you wish, father.” Draco smiled.

“There is also the matter of an heir…” Lucius warned.

“Understood, but we have a possible way around it. Hermione was telling us that the muggles have this thing called surrogacy.” Draco changed his stance and began to to speak as though repeating a lecture. “Surrogacy is where a woman becomes pregnant and carries a child but is not related to that child. We talked about it in potions last week. Uncle Sev says that magic could make it so much easier. Muggles take an egg from a woman, usually not the one that’s going to carry the child. The egg is fertilised by the man who is to be the child’s father, then inserted into the carrier, who bears the child until birth. He said that magic could make it so much easier. In the case of two men? One man could take a gender-swap potion to become a woman, long enough for a healer to retrieve eggs, which would be fertilised by the second man, and inserted into a witch who’d agreed to carry the child for them. In the case of two women, one would have to take the gender-swap potion and then they would have two options, the first being that they impregnate the carrier by traditional means, the second by retrieving eggs and externally fertilising them.”

Lucius blinked in shock. “That’s… that’s…”

“Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell have already volunteered to carry a child for us, if we decide to go down that path.” Draco gave his father a smug grin.

“Ooh, I don’t want to know. Go away, you exasperating child.” Lucius huffed, by smiled to take the sting out of his words.

The rest of the school year passed quietly. The much-expected prank on the school turned out to be not so much a prank as a show with gifts. The Horde had conjured a fluffy pink and white rabbit toy and _engorgio_ -ed the heck out it, to make it Hagrid-sized, then they’d enchanted it to a fare-thee-well, given it an expanded basket full of Easter eggs and set it loose. Eggs in all different shapes and sizes, different flavours, some filled with smaller eggs, some filled with candy-coated nuts, some with sweets, some with treats, some with toys, some with flowers. All of them covered in bright shiny metallic foil wrap, that came in so many different colours, red, blue, green, gold, purple, orange, stripes, spots, different designs, the list was almost endless.

And every student got some, even the staff were offered the basket. And everyone in the school knew that the Horde were responsible, but no one, not even the staff could work out how they did it or trace it back to them. It frustrated McGonagall and Flitwick no end, they would have dearly liked to have allocated points, but without proof, it just wasn’t possible.

Snape, however, had caught the Horde as they finished up and were just handing the rabbit the basket. His only comment had been that ‘Miss Lucas, from Hufflepuff, is allergic to chocolate, gentlemen, I do hope that you’ve taken that into consideration?’ and was assured that none of the eggs were actually chocolate, instead they were made with carob, but that they'd planned to have the bunny give Christina Lucas and her friends a selection of candy eggs, they were about having fun, not hurting people.

After the children had their faces smeared with the sugary mess, Snape quietly awarded ‘the pranksters responsible’ fifty points for taking safety into consideration. Neither McGonagall nor Flitwick ever worked out who was responsible. It became a tradition to do this each Easter, and it wasn’t until Draco, Neville, Hermione and Luna were graduating, that they gave McGonagall their notes and methodology for her to recreate their Easter Bunny.

That summer, the summer of 1992, was spent having a break and then getting ready for the new school year. The end of June and all of July were spent relaxing. Oh, sure, there were trips to the muggle world to stock up on products, but they only happened once a week, the rest of the time was just enjoyed. A hiking trip through the Trossachs’ national park for a week. A trip to the Isle of Sheppey for a few days in the sun. A few days at Malfoy manor, a few at Longbottom lodge, a few in Crawley with the Dagworth-Grangers. Even a few at the Burrow, the poor orchard becoming a makeshift camping ground. Different adults from different families acted as chaperones and in some cases as guides.

August saw the Horde descend on Diagon Alley in numbers. Agreements were to be made and others refreshed. 

Titan bit his lip nearly bloody before he went, but into Add A Room or Two, he did go.

“Hi. I’m Melissa. What can I help you with?” Titan remembered the blonde witch.

“I was hoping I could talk to Albert.” In his pocket he fingered the note that Albert had written for him to take to the tent shop.

“Just a moment and I’ll ask.” The young witch bounced away and returned less than a minute. “Blue door on the right.” She pointed the way.

“Thanks.” Titan took a deep breath and went over, tapping on the doorframe.

“Come.” The man’s voice was strong and sure, and Titan did as he was directed. “Have a seat, lad.” A hand pointed at the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. “Now what can I do for you?”

“Complicated.” Titan winced.

“You in trouble, lad?” Albert frowned.

“No, nothing like that. It’s just…” Titan huffed and pulled out the note and handed it over.

Albert quickly read it and looked at the boy. “I remember this and the young man I gave it to. But you’re not him, so why have you got it?”

“Actually… I am him. I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you all of my story.” Titan grimaced.

“How bad is it?” Albert went a little grey.

“Then? Bad, very bad. Now, not a problem, not anymore.”

“What **_can_** you tell me?”

Titan handed over a slip of paper that covered the time travel Secret and waited.

“Oh, my.” Albert gasped.

“Exactly. A week after I saw you, the DMLE got involved. I can’t give you any details, but who I was is gone, dead, who I am now, is permanent. They agreed to change everything about me, my age, my core, my name, everything. I now have two brothers, we’re triplets. And we are part of the Lion’s Den.”

“Ah.”

“So, I’m here, with my guardian’s permission to see if we can come to a formal agreement for my brothers and I, as our company Tribus, to buy your second-hand wiz-space frames, all of them, in as is condition.”

Albert raised a brow and began to nod. “I think we can, lad. And I think we might even come to an agreement to purchase our apprentice frames.”

“Only those that have passed the safety checks.” Titan corrected.

“Oh, of course.” Albert replied. “But I don’t think a κnut for the box’s worth is going to work, not in the long run, not if you’re going to sell them on.”

“Fair enough. We're kind of selling them on, but not individually, only as part of a trunk.”

“How so?”

Titan went on to explain the study-trunks and the Bolt-Hole trunks, what they were, what the contained and who they sold them to. From there it, devolved into a long, hard negotiation session, before the two were satisfied with the result.

“Lad, you drive a hard bargain. I’ll forward a memory of our agreed conditions and price to my Gringotts’ account manager and have him draw up the contract. I’d assume that it won’t take long, it’s fairly straight-forward. I’ll have him send a runner to the Den's shop, when the papers are ready. In the meantime, it’s good to see you again, and better to know that things worked out alright for you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to pass on to Carson that I heard from you, no details, just that you’re well and doing fine.”

“Yeah, that’s okay, you just won't be able to mention anything about who I am now or how I got to be who I am now.” Titan shrugged.

“He doesn’t need to know that. I don’t need to know that, so having it under a Secret, that’s a good thing, lad.”

“It is.” Titan grinned.

“Alright, off you go, the school rush is coming, and you want to be prepared.” Albert waved him away.

Titan’s grin grew. “Oh, it’s going to be madness.” He stood and gave Albert a bow as he left.


	20. Chapter 20

_“Alright, off you go, the school rush is coming, and you want to be prepared.” Albert waved him away._

_Titan’s grin grew. “Oh, it’s going to be madness.” He stood and gave Albert a bow as he left._

And it was.

All but two of the newly graduated seventh years brought their trunks back and in both cases the family had decided to pass it down to their next eldest children, one was going into fifth year and the other was a sixth year who had shared the trunk with her brother. That meant Paddrick had thirty-seven trunks to work on. Charlie had handed over his trunk, on the quiet, not wanting to alert his mother to the fact that he’d had such an expensive item for over a year.

In addition to the returned trunks, which needed to be cleaned and refurbished, Tribus had orders for another eighteen trunks. And Titan had orders for a dozen Bolt-Hole All-in-One’s, as he was calling the trunks he sold only to non-students, although, this year he had two special requests. One from Dumbledore, for a student going into sixth year who lived in the muggle world, in an area that allowed little privacy, her family were supportive, but ran a bed and breakfast that had guests almost every night during the summer. Nowhere to get any practice in and seeing as she had an underage exemption, without a trunk like Titan’s, that would be wasted. And one from Snape, who wanted a dedicated portable potions store-cupboard.

Along with hundreds of students wanting thousands of items. With fifty-plus students entering into first year and the all the returning students, the Den was a busy place.

Luna, Hermione and Draco were working hard on summer editions of the Hogwarts’ Herald, as they named their magazine. It had increased from the few pages they’d envisaged, to a true magazine. They now had a page for each year, broken down by subject to give a heads up on essays and assignments, surprisingly all the Professors were pleased to supply what information they could, pop-up quizzes not included. There were also pages devoted to the world outside of Hogwarts, too, one for the Ministry, one for the muggle world, one for the wizarding world and one just for Hogsmeade. A two-page spread in the centre of the magazine was just for careers advice and spotlighted four different types of employment, two muggle and two magical. Each house had another two pages to detail the news from both studying and graduated students, Gryffindor’s Gossip, Ravenclaw Rants, The Hufflepuffs' Hearsay and Slytherins' Scuttlebutt. And of course, there was also the unsubstantiated gossip, that got regulated to the Will-o’-the-wisp’s Whispers on the back page, while the front page held the highlights of what was inside and where to find it.

Each house was given notebooks that were linked on one in the Herald’s trunk, as well as a few students with carefully hidden identities, known only to Hermione and Draco, with Luna opting out as she felt she didn’t know anyone well enough to judge. These were used to jot down anything a student felt was interesting enough to spread around. Then there was a drop box outside the Great Hall for those that really wanted to keep their names out of print. Those that wanted the acknowledgement only had to write their name on their note and depending on whether it was used or not, they would get their recognition and points towards credits with the Herald that could be cashed in, in a number of ways. Free magazines, for them, free magazines sent to family, or transferred to the Den as a store-credit.

Second year for the quartet and fourth year for the rest of the Horde, was a quiet year. There must have been complaints about Quirrell’s stuttering the year before, because this year the Board of Governors had insisted on the power to approve or veto those who applied for positions in the school.

That meant… No Lockhart!

Upon reaching the Great Hall and not seeing the popinjay, the Horde… all of them had viewed a selection of Titan and Hermione’s memories, carefully edited to omit Harry potter… sighed in relief. That sigh was echoed by most of the school when Dumbledore introduced the new teacher and they realised that the DADA Professor was wearing Auror robes.

After a week of classes, the Horde gathered, and the time-travellers were asked if any of them were any good at curse-breaking, as the overall feeling from most students was that they wanted to keep Auror Goode as the DADA Professor for as long as they could. It took the triplets asking Moody to make an appointment to speak with the Headmaster to work the details out.

Dumbledore looked at the three fourth-year students and their grandfather, as they sat on sofas in his lower office.

“Gentlemen, what can I assist you with?” He smiled gently at them.

The three boys took a deep breath and Titan handed over a phial of memories.

“Sir, if you would watch those, it will considerably shorten the explanation.” Titan said. “There are minor alterations, I need to protect the identities of a few people and Grampy felt it was easier to remove any references to any names, than to try and pick and choose which ones to take out.”

Dumbledore raised a brow and looked to Moody, the Auror nodded gestured to Dumbledore’s hidden pensieve.

“Very well, I shall return.” He walked across to the pensieve and emptied the phial into it, he lowered his face and was pulled into the magical liquid. When he was ejected, he stumbled his way across the room and literally fell into a seat. “They resurrected **_him_**? Why? Who? Who could do such a thing? We dealt with them, those guilty were there executed and the innocent set free. Please don’t tell me, they weren’t innocent.” Dumbledore almost begged.

“No, no, no, they weren't innocent, they were. And you didn’t execute any innocents, either.” Paddrick assured him. “But the ones you didn’t get, were his unmarked followers and the sleeper cells. They-”

“Sleeper cells?”

“Sleepers. They remain completely dormant, asleep, until they’re called, or a specific thing happens.” Remy explained.

“And you… what? Removed them? Killed them? Obliviated them? What?” Dumbledore demanded.

“In a way, we obliviated them, but not really. They’re still waiting for that call, for that event, but they no longer remember what that call, or event is supposed to be.” Remy continued. “That one single moment of time, that identifies the call or event, is gone. They may remember agreeing to wait, they may not, it kinda depends on how intertwined that agreement and the identification of the call or event is.”

“I see.” Dumbledore frowned. “And what is to stop you from reversing the obliviate or being Imperiused to reverse it?”

“The three of us can throw off the imperius and the DMLE altered our magical signatures, so we can’t reverse anything done before then.” Titan answered, he was beginning to lose his patience with the old fart.

“And the obliviates happened before the alteration?” Dumbledore needed to be certain.

“Grampy insisted that anything in relation to Tom Marvolo Riddle, Voldemort and his Death-Eaters be resolved before the DMLE began to work on us.” Paddrick answered.

“So… you’re saying the matter is closed?”

“As closed as you thought it was, before entering the pensieve.” Moody grunted.

“Then why are you three in my office?” Dumbledore didn’t understand.

“Auror Goode. We have a petition, signed by every single student in the school. We want to keep him.” Remy said.

“The curse on the position?” Dumbledore realised.

“Right.” Moody grunted again.

“Do any of you know how to remove it?”

“No.” Titan shook his head. “But we know how to get around it.”

“Around it?”

“From what we have been able to figure out, the curse relates to the title of the position. The Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Remy said.

“Yes, I agree. I had the goblins in to assess the curse and the possibility of breaking it, not soon after we realised it was there, some five years after Tom placed it, but they warned that Tom had woven it into the muggle-repelling wards. To break the curse, we’d have to allow the wards to drop, and stay down for an entire lunar cycle.” Dumbledore replied.

“Yeah, we figured it was interconnected to the main castle wards. But like we said. We know how to get around it. Make a change to the Professor’s job title.” Titan said.

“What?” Dumbledore blinked.

“Change his job title. Right now, it most likely reads ‘Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts’. Correct?” Titan asked.

“Ye… yes, it does…” Dumbledore answered hesitantly. “It always has.”

“Change it. Maybe to ‘The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor’ or ‘Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts and Practical Offensive Magic’ or even keep it as simple as ‘Professor/Mentor of Defence Against the Dark Arts’. The options are almost endless. You don’t even have to call it Defence Against the Dark Arts, you can always change the call name. ‘Magical Defence’ is one option.” Titan lectured.

Dumbledore shook his head in astonishment. “You three have been students here for less than four years and you’ve managed to solve a riddle, a puzzle that some of the greatest minds of our world have spent forty-plus years on and failed to come to a working answer. Mr’s Grimm, I commend you. And... as even I have noticed how little interest you have in the earning points, how am I to reward you? Hmm…?”

“You alter the paperwork so Auror Goode stays here until we graduate. As you say, we’ve been here four years and, in that time, we’ve had four DADA Professors. We had Rakepick, Lance and Quirrell for the first three years and now we have Goode. Rakepick worked mainly on theory and while she was okay, we learnt nothing from her, that we didn’t learn from the assigned textbooks. Lance? He was barely literate, we didn’t get a single theoretical exercise for the entire year, and without outside intervention, no one would have been able to pass the OWL or NEWT exams. Quirrell? His stutter made him almost incomprehensible, certainly the lower years couldn’t understand him, and most didn’t even try. But he did assign semi-decent books. Now? Now, we have Goode. He assigned two levels of books, standard and advanced. He splits the class into two sections, again, standard and advanced. Students are given a chance of doing advanced work, but only if they’ve already completed the standard stuff. And he has set practical sessions, we know what we’re getting with him and we know that come exam time, the only people that will fail his class are the ones that want to fail.” Remy pulled out a sheet of parchment and read off a list of comments.

“Wanting to keep Auror Goode is all well and fine, but he is a DMLE employee, keeping him may not be an option.” Dumbledore warned.

“I spoke to Scrimgeour, took him the boys’ theories and their request to ‘keep’ Goode. And he agrees, change the title, either the position or the class’ and he’ll release Goode to the school as an Auror Attached, giving him the opportunity to scout for likely recruits. Goode’s enjoying the chance to be home of an evening, his wife’s pregnant and lives in Hogsmeade, as well you know.” Moody corrected.

“Ah. And this is what you want as a ‘reward’ for rendering the DADA curse obsolete?” Dumbledore asked.

“You keep Goode until we graduate or longer and we’re prepared to call it even.” Paddrick grinned.

“And what of the other Professors? Anyone there you would like to see the back of?”

“Binns is the only one and he doesn’t count anymore.” Remy shrugged.

“Doesn’t count?”

“Nope. Ravenclaw put out this… study guide, call it… for History. They’ve been around since the mid-60’s, as far as we can work out. Modified each year, dependant on the exams of the year before. You get a new Professor in there and it’s going to throw off the balance. Right now, students are passing quite well, but a new Professor? Nope, that’s going to cause a problem.” Remy answered.

“And CoMC? Get Professor Grubbly-Plank back, don’t give it to Hagrid, like the school rumour says.” Titan added.

“May I ask why?”

“We like Hagrid, don’t get us wrong, we do. But… he’s so much bigger than us, he doesn’t understand that what doesn’t hurt him, can hurt or kill us.” Titan answered.

“Plus, he has this tendency to like dangerous animals. Like triple X and above. He dream is to have a dragon… here at the school.” Paddrick grimaced. “He thinks he can make it a pet.”

“Oh, my…” Dumbledore sighed.

“Yeah… We like him, but he’s not Professor material.” Remy agreed.

“Besides that, the Board wouldn’t accept him.” Titan added.

“And why not? Hagrid is a fine fellow, he would never deliberately injure a student, nor would he stand for a student to be injured.” Dumbledore began to rant.

“Nothing to do with any of that.” Paddrick held up a hand.

“It’s simply that he doesn’t have wand-rights.” Titan huffed.

“He was expelled in 1943 and the Ministry banned him from having a wand again.” Remy added.

“Without wand-rights and at least an OWL in the subject, there’s no chance the Board would accept him. And while, you’re right, he wouldn’t hurt us, that doesn’t matter to the Board. No wand-rights, no OWLs, no teaching. It’s part of the school’s ICW accreditation, that all instructors have wand-rights and have passed a minimum level of education. Hagrid doesn’t have them, letting him teach, could lose us students, our ICW recognition on our OWLs and NEWTs.” Paddrick explained, ending the argument, completely.

“ICW?” Dumbledore looked askance to Paddrick.

“Here…” Remy passed over the ICW and WEA handbook on teaching credentials, open to the appropriate page.

Dumbledore read through the indicated passage and sighed. “I see, well… That changes a few things. I may have to alter some of my plans… but your… memories… have changed a few of my possible ideas for the future.”

“The Tri-Wizard Tournament?” Titan asked. “Yeah, try to avoid that. Having a marked Death-Eater, who’s supposedly already dead, kidnap and impersonate an Auror, then polyjuice into them and teach for the better part of a year, with staff not realising? Not good.”

“Even if I personally recaptured the Death-Eater in question and witnessed his execution, can you take the chance, Albus?” Moody ground out. “It cost you a student, a very promising one, and it nearly cost Titan his life.”

“Agreed, Alastor. But there is one thing that the memories never explained. Why did they choose you, Mr Grimm? You in particular?” Dumbledore asked Titan.

Titan grimaced. “Yeah, that’s complicated. Part of it was revenge, but a large part was down to magical core levels and their potential. Allow me to provide what will probably be unnecessary but also incomplete information on the Merlin Core Index. The lowest level, One, showed up as a dark chocolate colour when the Core Status Charm is cast. Two is a mid-brown, three is chestnut. These three are the levels that we classify as the muggle levels. One is the standard muggle, the muggle that even if you cast a patronus beside them, they’d miss it completely, these muggles are the least likely to ever have a magical child born into their families. Two is the Sensitives, those that might feel a lessening of cold, or an improvement in emotional wellbeing. Three, are the mediums, their psychics, people that may or may not see but feel the presence of ghosts or may clearly feel the impact a patronus would have, if they were to come into close quarters with one. The next three levels are what we generally assign to the term ‘squib’. Level four, shows as a rich maroon and most of those at this level, understand magic only on an academic level. Level five is red and most squibs at this level can see magical structures even if they can’t interact with them. Level six, shows up as a vibrant pink and those at this level have a limited ability to interact with magic, whether it be being able to use the floo network, make or take potions, send or receive owl mail, or see and access magical buildings like the Leaky Cauldron or St. Mungo's. From there we get into the… let’s call them the magical levels, people in these levels are broadly termed wizards, taking gender out of the formula. Level seven is purple, while most are too powerful to be classed as squibs, many are not powerful enough to use or call a wand, they tend to be home schooled in the more academic subjects and more than half of the Arithmancy Masters that are alive today are in this category. Level eight shows as a pale lavender, most have wands but again many are still home schooled, all but three Rune Masters in Britain are this level. Level nine are blue, the lower ranked students tend to come from this level, such as Pucey from our year and second-years Crabbe and Goyle. They're managing, but only just. Level ten is turquoise, the average wizard tends to be turquoise, people like our dormmates Ken and Lee or second-years Thomas and Finnigan. Then we’re into the upper levels, commonly called the advanced levels. Eleven shows as jade and many Aurors, tend to be at this level. Twelve is green and people like Duelling Masters and Transfig Masters usually come from here. Thirteen is lime, a cross between green and yellow, yourself are in this category, there might be less than a dozen thirteens, worldwide. Fourteen is yellow, it’s rumoured that Newt Scamander is a yellow, but there’s no proof. As of last year, he still refuses to be tested. Other than him, the only known yellows are the Founders. Level fifteen is pearl, Morgana is reputed to be a pearl. Still with me?”

“Yes, yes, I follow.”

“Good. What’s not commonly known is that there are still levels above these. Gold, silver and white. If you do your research, you’ll find that Merlin was called the wizard of white magic.” Titan raised a questioning brow.

“Yes, yes, I recall…” Dumbledore trailed off as he rifled through his memories. “It’s why the precursor to the Scottish flag was blue with a white hand in the centre. The blue represented the sky of Scotland while the white was the light from his wandless magic.”

“Yes, any time Merlin did magic windlessly, his hands would glow white.” Titan replied.

“But what does this have to do with why you were chosen to participate in Tom’s resurrection?”

“You’re aware that most magical children are tested at birth and various different times before they get to Hogwarts? And that their cores grow slowly as well as going through four major growth-spurts at roughly ten, fifteen, seventeen and twenty-one? That they may move up by as many as three or four levels, from prior to their first growth-spurt to adult level in their twenties?” With each of Titan’s questions, Dumbledore nodded.

“Excellent.” Titan smiled. “Grampy, as you know is strong, he’s a pale green, fluctuating between 12.8 and 12.9, depending on who’s casting, some people are expecting more information than just 12.8, they might be thinking more along the lines of 12.89 or 12.887. With extra decimal places. My brothers and I were tested prior to our first growth-spurt as 11.7, all of us.” Dumbledore gasped. “After our first growth-spurt, Remy was 12.1, Paddrick was 12.2 and I was 12.9.” Another gasp from the Headmaster. “Our second growth-spurt was prior to our fourth year and after it was over, Remy tested at 12.9, Pads at 13.1 and me at 14.1.” Dumbledore’s jaw fell open. “All three of us had our third growth-spurt early, but at different times. Remy a week shy of seventeen and he tested at 13.4. Pads had his at sixteen-and-a-half and tested at 13.7. Me, my third growth-spurt was the summer I turned sixteen and I tested at 14.9. I didn’t get to my fourth growth-spurt before things went really bad. But Grampy believes I have the potential to be the first pearl level wizard since Morgana.”

“…oh… my…” Dumbledore was finding it hard to breath.

“Exactly. Which is why I was used. I died in that final battle with the golem. Remy and Pads were already dead, Pads in June 1996 and Remy in May 1998. I was given the choice, stay dead, stay with my family, meet my parents, my grandparents… or go back…” Titan let a tear slide down his cheek. “I thought I was going back to the battle.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I walked out of the entrance to platform 9¾… ten years earlier, as a child again. Grampy was the one to suggest putting that knowledge under a Secret. He felt it the best way to keep us safe.”

“I see…” Dumbledore sat back in his seat. “That’s…”

“Yeah…” The triplets sighed. “We know…”

“And what will you do once you leave school? What does your future hold?” The Headmaster asked.

Titan grinned, a bright and cheeky smile, one that made Dumbledore chuckle.

“First we plan to finish school. Now, don’t get me wrong, Professor, we do well, but we’re not really trying, not yet. We don’t want the attention, but come NEWTs, we’re going to upset a lot of ‘claws. We’re going to take the honours and the top three slots for each class we’re in. After school, we’ve a few options. Pads has been debating joining the Aurors and Remy has been debating asking for the History post and using the study-guides as his course outline. But I’ll be staying with my shop.”

“And that’s it?”

“Oh, we all plan to marry.” Pads assured him. “Grampy’s spoken to the Malfoys, Titan and Draco have a betrothal contract in place. While Remy is waiting until Hermione is fifteen, Lady Augusta won’t sign it until then. And Arthur Weasley says that Fred and me have to be fifteen, too. And Hermione, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape are working on a way for us to have children of our own, using a muggle method and modifying it to work with potions and magic.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, see, what happens is…” For the next few minutes Remy explained Hermione and Snape’s theory on surrogacy and how it could be modified for the wizarding world. “… and then when baby’s born the carrier takes the usual post-natal potions and the baby goes home with it’s parents.”

“Oh, my…”

Moody snorted. “You seem to be saying that a lot today, Albus.”

Dumbledore gave him a flat look. “And you didn’t say much the same, when they sprung this on you?”

“Oh, I was far worse than this. Far worse.”

“He was.” Pads grinned. “Swore for nearly five minutes, straight.”

“It was… loud…” Titan added.

“But now we have a future.” Remy smiled.

“You do.” Dumbledore nodded. “And I’m guessing that you’re going to make the most of it.” It wasn’t a question.

“We are.” The three spoke together.


	21. Epilogue - Of Sorts

_“But now we have a future.” Remy smiled._

_“You do.” Dumbledore nodded. “And I’m guessing that you’re going to make the most of it.” It wasn’t a question._

_“We are.” The three spoke together._

Their school years passed quietly.

No prisoners escaped from Azkaban. No dementors. No Tri-Wizard Tournament. No dragons. No swimming in Black Lake in November. No maze. No portkeys. No graveyards. No sadistic toads from the Ministry. No inquisitorial squad.

By the time the majority of the Horde graduated, they’d had a lovely quiet time. No dramas, no panicked battles, nothing.

After everything they’d been through, Titan believed that Lady Magic was finally giving them their well-earned peace.

The triplets did exactly what they’d told Dumbledore they would do. Between them, they claimed the top three positions in every class they’d taken, causing their Headmaster to chuckle at the look of sheer confusion on McGonagall and Flitwick’s faces. Snape just snorted and ignored the stunned silence, he was well aware of the triplets’ capabilities and wasn’t all that surprised to find that they’d down-played their intelligence. Privately, he wondered how they’d managed to avoid Slytherin.

After leaving Hogwarts, the three met with the rest of the Horde and laid all their options out. The discussion was long and loud, so much so, that Moody was rather grateful that the Horde, as a group, had decided to buy a remote property. Surprisingly, they’d decided on a two-hundred tract of land in Scotland, in the valley of Inchnabobart, which turned out to be less than ten miles from the Queen’s Scottish residence of Balmoral Castle. Not that it made any difference to the Horde, other than making sure that their muggle-repelling notice-me-not wards were set as close to the borders of the property as they could get. With no trespass laws in Scotland, the only way to keep people out was to make them not want to be there.

For three days, they debated. Who was going to do what, and when? The outcome was that the quartet would hand over the trunk that Arthur had given them, right before they’d left, to the twins. They had no idea what they were going to do with its contents, or even if they would do anything, but after more discussions, Titan had managed to get them to take half of the ʛalleons it held. As he said, he’d only fronted them the start-up money, and hadn’t done a single thing towards the ideas or running of the WWW.

But in the meantime, the twins were more than happy running ‘Don’t Forget The…?’. Maybe later, they would open a small prank department, but not yet. Lee planned to stay with his ‘Desk Set’, it was more than enough for him. Ken’s father was now back on his feet was encouraging Ken to have a more permanent shop in the magical world, a trunk was all well and good, but there was little permanence to that. However, a store in Diagon or Hogsmeade was a different story. Alicia and Angelina’s debate was the loudest, but eventually they came to an agreement. Alicia would have two years to try-out for a professional quidditch team, if at the end of that time she hadn’t succeeded, she would return to the ‘Young Witch’s Friend’ and Angelina. If successful, she would allow Angelina to buy out her share of the business, but she would keep her two shares in the Den.

While the triplets decided they were going to wait until the quartet graduated before making any permanent changes. At that point, Remy would apply to Hogwarts, to take on the History post and Paddrick would join the Aurors. Draco would take on Paddrick's ‘Stellar Outfitter’ and Hermione would run ‘Insider Information’. How the two pairs and Luna had worked out the share situation, was never really disclosed, but all five were happy, so the rest of the Horde left them to it.

When Luna graduated it became clear what her plans were, she employed Lavender Brown as her wizarding world correspondent and Mandy Brocklehurst as her muggle world correspondent, while with the Headmaster’s permission, Alys Belling, who was in her second year, when Luna graduated, would be her Hogwarts student contact. Luna would visit the school each week and get any updates directly from the staff.

Titan, being Titan and not having a massive draw on his time during term, would flit from business to business, assisting wherever he was needed, in addition to managing the Den’s accounts and maintaining the infrastructure. But he felt no desire to leave the Den and either enter the Ministry or Hogwarts. Sure, he knew that eventually Dumbledore would convince him to return to Hogwarts, but that wasn’t going to be any time soon, for now, he was happy just pottering about. Ironic given what his name used to be.

Titan and Draco married in 1999, at sunset on the summer solstice. They were content for the first year to just be together, but slowly the desire for children nagged at them. In December of 2000, they convinced Snape and Pomfrey to assist them in creating a child. Their first child had Titan as the genetic ‘father’, Draco as the genetic ‘mother’, while Angelina was their carrier. On the 11th of September, Titan and Draco welcomed their son, Hyperion Armand, and on the 17th of May 2002, their daughter, Amaryllis Florence joined them.

Winter solstice, 1999 saw Remy and Hermione marry. Over the next six years, they would have four children, Michael James, Juliet Elizabeth, Stuart Alexander and Laurence Christopher. Remy stayed as History Professor until his and the Horde’s children graduated but swore that he wasn’t going to teach his own grandchildren.

Paddrick and Fred somehow, and no one’s quite certain how, managed to marry on the quiet, and kept it quiet, without telling anyone until they announced that they were expecting a baby, with Katie Bell as their surrogate. No one, not even the proud dads were expecting to get another set of triplets, but that’s what they got. Corvus Fabian, Castor Gideon and Caldwell Altair. The stunned fathers decided that three was more than enough kids for them.

Luna and Neville married summer of 2000 and by 2010 had six children and Luna was pregnant with their seventh. Four daughters, Pandora Katherine, Miranda Alice, Jessica Lily and Amber Rose and two sons, Andrew Franklin and Matthew Harfang. And they were hoping the newest Longbottom would be another boy, Neville wanted to even out the numbers, there were times that he felt badly outnumbered.

Ken and Alicia married in 2003 and had one son, Kellan Lucas. Alicia joined the Kenmare Kestrels and was a starting chaser for four years, retiring from the playing, but signing on as a coach, when she found out she was pregnant.

Lee married Kingsley Shacklebolt’s niece, Aruna in 2003, but neither were in a hurry to have children, and managed to wait until 2009 before announcing they were expecting. With the baby yet to arrive and the parents refusing to reveal the gender, or if they’d chosen a name, speculation and betting ran rampant.

Angelina ran George ragged before she agreed to marry him in 2007, they had two children Roxanne Louise and Alastor Arthur.

As he sat on the uncomfortable chairs in St. Mungo's maternity waiting room, waiting for Aruna to give birth, Titan looked back over his life. From a dearly loved baby to a barely tolerated child, to a revered or relived (depending on the day) saviour, to a complete unknown. The twists and turns of his life were enough to make him shake his head over. But one thing he knew for absolute certain.

He had no regrets in choosing the veil and entrusting himself to Lady Magic.

Looking around the room he saw brothers, by blood and by choice, and sisters, he saw children, enough to make even Molly Weasley happy, when she stopped bemoaning Fred’s elopement, that is.

A world of peace and a family to love. That was all Harry Potter had ever wanted and it was a reality for Titan Grimm.

He had no regrets.


End file.
